'On The Hunt' Poem by Linda Winchell

The cooler weather has triggered excitement I see
there are tails of white in the fields near me.
Bucks and doe's rutting, all placing their claim
while the hunters hide and takes steady aim.

Bow's pulled back, always ready to shoot
Dad in his tree stand, all in camoflaged suit.
Thermos of hot chocolate, and a sandwich or two
sitting silently watching, and damp from the dew.

There in the distance comes a buck and a doe
they're ready to mate, so dad lets them do so.
Don't want to disturb what nature intends
Dad will shoot him another, before his day ends.