The expert hunter doesn't cling.
Not having a dog, he hunts with
his cat... not having a cat,
he hunts with his duck, without
duck hunting with mouse...
- mouse...?
- Yeah... there are hunting rats
you knew...?
- And when there is no mouse?
In the "revolution" they hunted with ACTS...
If all fails then...
- Well, he takes the shotgun...!
The ducks in the air flying in a V-shape.
The clouds overhead looks dark like rain,
The sunrise with its orange-red on the lake
The cattails whistling in the wind.
The snow-covered glisten in the sun
The ducks quacking to the other ducks it is time to go south
Father and sons are going camping together, it is going to snow
It is duck hunting season
The boys like to go swimming while the father is cooking.
The sunset brings on the colors of the sunrise
The clouds begin to form up as it is going to snow.
The cattails are still, the wind is quiet.
The crickets are chirping, the fire is dying
The campers are getting ready to go to sleep.
When we go hunting for food it may be ducks, deer or elk.
We freeze the meat, so we can have it all year long
We eat the meat in many ways.
Hunting for food is joyful but sometimes we can get
What we were hunting for.
Wishing I could be anywhere but right here,
On a dream bathed with barley and low lined cloud.
Relishing nature's eagerness to endear,
Leaving the busyness and roar of the crowd,
Delighting in vast small grain fields freshly plowed.
Ceasing to care of expectations once placed,
Rising only to meet the next mallard called.
Unfathomable desolation embraced,
In fresh cut grain stubble fields with decoys sprawled.
Sightseeing along a section line road, not showing on any of a map,
Expecting Fall’s migration to explode, with a north Canadian cold snap
Acrostic World Cruise Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kevin Shaw
10/06/17