Hunting With Dad Poem by james d nall,jr

walking across a frost covered field
Crunch of cornstalks, underfoot, I feel
Got an old 12 gauge over my shoulder
Damn! , I swear it just got 10 degrees colder
Memories of hunting, with my late father
Womenfolk always wonder, why bother?
Every now and then, I hear a new sound
All alone out here, makes my heart pound
When the temperature drops a few more degrees
I swear I hear my Dads voice, on the breeze
Many good times were had between us two
I remember the hard times, we went through
But, out here, I'm feeling completely at ease
Still trying, to make out his words, on the breeze
Could it be? , He's trying to tell me something?
Or maybe, He just wanted to go hunting?