Our deer season is over for this year. We scored 2 bucks out of 5 hunters this year. Hubby was one, he always gets his deer. I had a poetic moment this season ~
The Season
It’s the planning and packing
And examining maps, with need
Of cleaning and sighting
Of the crosshairs and bead
The jerry cans of fuel and fifty gallons of water
Remember to put air in that low tire
Anticipating the stories and jokes by the fire
Hitching up the campers
Take a doze in the truck bed
All rigs know where to go
That would be west
Opening day spirits run high
Waiting for ole sol to warm up the sky
Hot mugs of coffee while the trucks wake up
Grab your rifle, load up, sit down, and shut up
The hunt rumbles on, keep your eyes out the window
Spotting that four point could be the crescendo
Most important of all, when you throw up your guns
Be certain that deer is packing plums
Before you know it, the season concludes
And every September we will do it again
Making sure the memories ensue
Even if it means deer tag stew