Bang For The Buck-- A Hunter’s Tail

[reasonrhymer]

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Bang For The Buck-- A Hunter’s Tail



Tiptoeing from camp at mornings twilight,
freshly sprinkled snow, twinkles a trail’s delight.
It’s hunter’s first light, imagination screaming. 
aroma of sweet pine in the senses gleaming.

Spying anticipation for the markings of deer,
heart pounding sensations mounting severe. 
Scoping sites at the bottom of the ravine,
a large buck, big rack, looking serene.

Clandestine stances to retrieve a better view,
mistaken step, a crackle of leaves under shoe. 
The big buck breaks from his ponderous thinking,
staring into you, his eyes fixed, not blinking. 

Not a thought, finger steady, pulling the trigger,
the bang for a buck, the bullet of  vigor. 
The hunters excitement about to explode, 
falling headlong down, his souls been sold. 
his body comes to rest next to the buck of dreams,
warm blood from both, commingling streams.

A spirit comes forth, in native Indian form, 
healing hands on both, impingingly warm.
Stirring from sleep the hunter awakes,
the Indian and buck are gone--
“there’s been some mistake!”

The hunter jumps up, springing to all fours,
rack on his head, hell’s opening doors. 
Staring his site to the top of the ravine,
a hunter gun drawn looking serene.

Tiptoeing from camp at mornings twilight,
freshly sprinkled snow, twinkles a trail’s delight.
It’s hunter’s first light, imagination screaming. 
aroma of sweet pine in the senses gleaming.

Not a thought, finger steady, pulling the trigger,
the bang for a buck, the bullet of  vigor. 
Ripping through his neck, the warm blood flows,
trembling all fours,  his tale comes to a close.


George





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[rocha]

Liked the flow of this George....although I am not sure how you did it....and the ending is pretty stark...which is how it should be....when relating a hunting tale.
Great title ....

[jeannerené]

George,

My grandfather hunted everything under the sun. We ate wild game regularly, and I can remember many a deer in the back of the pickup. I remember moose, boar and rabbit ... all kinds of fowl ... and even snake too as items on my grandmother's dinner menu. My uncle went one time .... so the story goes ... with my grandfather deer hunting and when after shooting a deer, he had to "finish it off" by slitting its throat he never ... ever went again.

..... so I don't miss any of it ...


Message behind this poem makes one pause and think ... much I guess as my uncle did.

As always your poetry travels directly to both head and heart.

.jeanne

[davidmm]

Hello rr

In the UK we dont have this fascination with guns and hunting. Technically, all handguns are banned, even for sporting/competition purposes (although criminals can always get them, I guess) and shotgun licences are issued. To obtain a shotgun permit, not only do you have to pass personal screening checks but the local firearms officer must also inspect and appprove the land where your shooting is to take place.
Hunting deer is permitted in Scotland I believe but is strictly controlled. You can't say, "Hmmm, let's have venison for dinner," and go shoot a deer. You would probably be having prison food for dnner instead. In fact most types of shooting is fairly well controlled so I believe although there should be no licenses to kill (in my opinion).
Our upper classes used to hunt foxes with packs of hounds but that is now illegal (although it still happens in certain places).
We know of the American "constitutional right to bear arms" and I guess that those with guns want to use them. It's such a pity they can't be content with shooting at a target range or clay pigeon shooting.
Sorry for the lecture but this is a thought inducing piece, rr.

[festus50]

I liked this "tail"