The Hunter Poem by Randy McClave

The buck stood their so majestic
While unto him I probably looked so pathetic,
I am wearing camouflage, painted my face in the garage
With two friends with me as my entourage.
He stands there so majestic and brave
Not knowing his life I did honestly crave,
I want him dead, unto my friends I had said
On my wall I then wanted his mounted head.
He is not at all a furious creature
As was taught to me years ago by my teacher,
But, there is a thrill, when an animal I do kill
As I control its very life and a will.
As I stare at him through my rifle scope
Soon his carcass will be mine I do honestly hope,
Then at sunrise, he will then be my prize
With joy of tears coming from my eyes.
I am not at all poor
I could buy meat anytime I want at any store,
But, I truly enjoy the pursuit, for it I am en-route
I am hyped and excited for the shoot.
I'll butcher the Buck and I'll give the meat away
Most likely to my friends and family everyday,
Hunting for me is exciting, I find it very delighting
Especially when there is a buck sighting.
When the bucks are out their in the woods grazing
Their antlers I am appraising,
On my wall I want the buck's head mounted, I want the points counted
My victory I wanted known and announced.
It is now just between him and me
He wants to eat and I want him as my ultimate trophy,
There I am with my gun held high, wanting him to die
And him probably just wondering, why?

Randy L. McClave