my middle son who is a freshman in highschool was required to write a poem about a memory. he chose the memory of his youth hunt last year jan of 2010 and thought i would share it with you all.
enjoy:
A Twitch in the Air
By: Andrew Hoffmann
It frightens me to remember the
Cold of that harsh winter day.
Rifle in hand, I knew to
Tough it out was the only way.
The snowy landscape glistened
In the morning sun
I sit there thinking to myself,
People do this for fun?
-13 Degrees read the thermometer
At the crack of dawn.
Hoping to get a massive deer,
And not a poor little fawn.
Not a single sound heard,
Nor single movement made.
Hunting can be so boring
I sometimes feel so betrayed.
Betrayed by the hunted
Who will never come out.
Just show me your face
Don�t leave me with doubt.
My hands become frozen
And my feet have lost all feeling.
How this bitter, wintry day
Is so unappealing.
But! There in the distance!
A twitch in the air.
Is this my imagination?
Oh please be there.
Now I see legs,
Eyes and a nose.
It really is a deer
This can be fun, I suppose.
My shoulder hugs the rifle,
Like a mother holds to her newborn child.
My finger jerked and the silence succeeded
I immediately looked up and smiled.
Oh, that deer gave its life
For my dining pleasure.
How it tasted so scrumptious
And so delicious beyond measure.
Hunting is not a sport,
Nor a method to pass the time.
But a way to endure life, to breathe,
And most of all, to Survive.