tis the season

in the cool, dawn morning we walk
thigh high weeds
uneven terrain
field glasses ready
we hunt

the game changes
depending on the season
always, we two
walking and searching
rifles on our shoulders

deer season--we see javelina
javelina season--deer
no rhyme or reason
but together...
we hunt

Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License