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Are the Hunters of today Sportsmen or just animal killers?
The scene of the hunt
with withered leaves.
rattling in the winds.
cut through the woods,
by wild and elusive game.
Red Dirt under the leaves,
wet, soft and sticking to your shoes,
weighing your feet down with each step.
A Blue Sky, with dark gray clouds slowly sailing by.
The air is wet and cold
as it touches your face and ears.
If you are patient, and quiet, you might see;
the birds dancing from tree to tree,
the Deer as they search for fresh young shoots to eat,
an other residents of the wild woods.
Preparing for the Hunt
The old Country road, once rarely used by anyone,
is now stained by chunks of farmland mud,
from the Young Hunter's truck tires,
The young mens eyes are open and bright
as they eagerly search for signs of Deer, perhaps even a Buck,
to kill or to main.
Its no matter to them,
it's all part of the game.
Dressed up, like a real hunter, they think,
all camouflage and bright orange stripes,
shiny new guns and imported waterproof boots,
Orange hats top off each hunters expensive attire.
The Young Hunters
For 'tis the Season to pretend.
To pretend that they are filling the larder,
like their forefathers before them.
To pretend they are providing the family's Meat,
with their fast food cheeseburgers still in their full bellies.
Wearing their fancy, expensive clothes;
insulated from the cold and brightly colored for protection
from their fellow Holiday Hunters.
Laden with shiny guns, with straps and holsters,
fancy ammunition and powerful scopes;
all designed to guarantee the Kill!
Finally, they leave their warm trucks,
and walk to their prepared stands,
all set up with an open view,
of the big Salt Lick they had placed there weeks before.
Those stupid Deer sure do like their Salt.
On go the Battery powered cameras, placed so they can watch every path,
and be ready for when the great Buck approaches and takes his bitter taste of death.
So, they drop the camouflage mesh, unfold the portable chair, open the thermos of Coffee,
and don the headset with microphone attached,
The young hunters settle in for a long days hunt (sic), totally prepared for the big kill.
High Tech Deer Hunter
The Deer die of an overdose of technology.
Suddenly, a tone comes from the monitor,
motion has been detected, by the diligent battery powered camera,
The young hunter looks, and;
Oh, My! A Buck and a Doe are walking, right for your tasty, Salty treat.
With shaking hands, you arm your rifle,
and hastily speak into your headset microphone to your fellow hunters from the city.
All of them are armed and ready to share in the experience of the kill.
The wary Doe goes first, stepping delicately, from the edge of the woods,
to taste this fortunate treat while the Buck stands back;
Head up and proud, Antlers turning in the air,
eyes scanning the horizon, searching for any suspicious sound or movement,
tense and ready to bolt at any sign of danger.
The Buck is all basic instinct, ready to protect his mate at the first sign of danger.
And so he waits while the Doe takes her fill.
Finally, relaxing ever so slightly,
the Buck moves into the open himself, for his own cautious taste.
Loud noises in the Bucks ears instantly make him leap,
But there are pains in his chest and he falls to the ground.
The Bucks heart has exploded from the metal projectiles that have pierced it.
But, even though the brave Buck is actually dead,
his body manages to instinctively rise and takes two brave leaps,
for the safety of the woods before his mind stops,
like his heart had already done only moments before.
The poor Doe?
Filled with fear, she bolts at the strange noise and reaches the safety of the woods.
But once there, she stops and turns, searching for her mate.
With this pause,
the Young Hunters have time to reload and take another shot.
that's all it took, to end the defenseless Does life.
They both lie there, only a dozen feet or so apart,
their bright red blood staining the soggy winter leaves,
the heat slowly draining from their dead bodies.
The Young Hunters confidently take their time to examine the bodies.
Slapping each other on the back, they crow over their kill,
touting their hunting skills and their shooting accuracy,
to each other as they dance and prance
around the cold bodies on the ground.
Out come their expensive hunting knives,
and the remaining Blood is drained from the stiffening bodies,
the steaming organs are removed and the gutted carcass'
are thrown onto their fold-up wheeled carts.
Then, its back to the truck, grab some rope,
and the bodies of the mighty Buck and his mate,
are tied over the truck hood.
Just like seen in the movies.
The Old Hunters from Yesteryear watch
Their Bloody trophies,
need to be checked and the meat must be cleaned and frozen,
for feasting at a winter's party, sometime later this year.
As they walked back across the field,
cocky in their manliness and celebrating their victory,
if they had just turned back for a moment, just a moment,
and looked very hard they might have seen,
the two pale ghosts standing at the wood's edge.
These are the ghosts of two old hunters from yesteryear,
Just poor dirt farmers,dressed in faded and patched work clothes,
with their sweat-stained brimmed hats on their heads,
worn work boots on their feet,
their cold dirty fingers jutting from patched cotton gloves,
and old worn shotguns hanging in the crook of their arms.
Thin, wiry men, who worked hard every day,
who hunted for food, for their families because they had to.
These old hunters, of the past, never hunted for the fun of it.
So they just shook their heads and stared, for a moment,
at these strange people, and their needless killing
of another living thing,
put here for other purposes.
Deer Kill Video
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© 2011 Don Bobbitt