White Stag

Roaming eyes and heavy brows
The lowly hunter lies in wait

Palms are sweaty as temperature rises
Big red stag he anticipates

Lying and waiting, just anticipating

'Big Game' is the goal
My, my, such a foreigner to spirit and soul

Deciduous trees over beautiful terrain
The peace and calm of a Georgia December

Still lying and waiting, just anticipating

For a prize, a game, a win
Uh oh! Shhhhh, wait!

The sweet rustling and crinkling of leaves and brush

A glorious movement at a distance

'Big Red' the hunter is anticipating

But 'Big White' is coming through the pines

Now, hands grow cold as the temperature drops

Eyes become sullen and the trigger finger stops

The rifle is laid to rest

The white stag emerges and ceases the hunter's quest
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace