"Ambush Trail"

[Wannabe1]

"Ambush Trail"

On soft pine needles I sat not deep
Betraying my presence not a single peep
From a bird or squirrel, that love to play
In boughs and limbs beneath a sky of gray

Evening's hour is all around
Softening all the green and brown
A gentle breeze upon my face
As my heart quickens and begins to race

Fingers put tension on the string
In anticipation of a shaft to fling
For on the trail ahead, there did appear
Forked horns on a blacktail deer

But, the shot was a miss I'm sad to say
No venison to be had this ending day
Wrecked by the fever we know so well
As I sat beside my ambush trail


TW

[Wannabe1]

ttt

[Robertfishes]

Cool poem, I think most of us have had that feeling too

[ARCHER2]

I like that, nice!

[Mark Baker]

[Wannabe1]

Thought I'd bring this one back around.  

[Rob W.]

Very nice.

I have not seen you post one of these in a while.

Keep them coming. I have not read one yet that I did not think was top notch.

Bisch

[Kingsnake]

Good Stuff!    

Kingsnake

[Rob W.]

What's up with the other poem being closed?