Deer Season

Here it is, the final week
I’m praying for a buck to peek
out of that edge, into my stand
I’ll hold my breath
I’ll shit my pants

When the young buck comes in range
I start to sweat
I feel strange
The bucks stops and turns broadside
showing off some nice brow tines

This is it, my chance afforded
Quiet patience now rewarded
As I move to pull the trigger
Across my hand a slight shiver

My symptoms there were few and many
Blurry eyes, hands sweaty
The buck stood tall
The buck stood proud
He glanced at me, he knows now
Desperate now to pull that lever
I can’t, I’m frozen
I’ve got buck fever

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About maritimeoutofdoors

Grant is a human being that eats food and puts his pants on two legs at a time, by jumping.

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