I've had enough of city life;
I had to get away,
so here I am up in the hills
on this November day.
I didn't bring my cellular;
I didn't bring a car.
It's just my trusty horse and me,
and dreams to take me far.
The leaves have fallen off the trees;
they're piled up on the ground.
There's silence in these lonely woods,
but beauty all around.
A six-point mule deer buck sneaks by,
but all we do is look.
In days gone by my heart would pound
as hands and rifle shook.
My hunting days are over now;
all wildlife's free to roam.
I turn my horse and head downhill
and start to head back home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem