November 15th 2011
By Jerry Strine
I sit in woods of gray and brown
The frost has all the leafs brought down
The north wind blows upon my face
It is the majestic buck that I chase
In my stand walnut and steel in hand
I pass the hours as as my forefathers
The buck is strong his antlers tall
but I must fool nose and ears so long
His eyes so bright and keen
detect all movement on the scene
His feet so fast to flee the scene
have often got the best of me
But my will is strong and my patience long
on this a mid November dawn
The dawn has come and the dawn has gone
I have pushed my senses all day long
As the sun glows red behind the trees at west
I am put to the hunters test
Their is a brown gray shadow passing between the trees
antlers sprawling for me to seize
But the buck is wary
and the brush is thick
I must find a hole
for my bullets trick
He stops to check the air
however their is no hole their
I am waiting for his snort to blast
but his snort does not come to pass
As he starts to move to me
I have a spot picked out between the trees
One more step to take
my aim I make
A steady pull I take
Boom the gun does make
Their is blood on the leafs
trailing through the trees
It is taking me
to my quarry
Now some time is spent on bended knee
prayers are sent heavenly
A knife comes unbound
for the buck on the ground
Now their is meat
family bound
As the winters pass
its icy blast
We will be warmed
by his gift and memory
Novembers song
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Novembers song
Hunt eat sleep repeat.