First Deer
Hiding behind an oak tree, picking at my nose.
All that I've seen, are a bunch of skittish does
Last nights dinner of canned beans and dry bread,
Are talking to me loudly, and the smell is quite dread.
Finally got me settled, now I'm havin' to go pee.
Woodpeckers and Bluejays are clearly mocking me.
My butts gotten flat from sittin, I can no longer feel my feet.
Now I'm a wishin I had brought a comfy seat.
My stomachs a growlin, like a roarin' freight train
If I sit here much longer I'll likely go insane.
Everything seems buck-like in this crazy sun light
Why, you ask? do I do this year to year...
It's for that one chance to say...I shot my first deer.
Author - Jennifer Dove 2008
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