HUNTING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY

Posted by | December 02, 2012 | Poetry | 16 Comments

 

yesterday evening I sat where I sit now
waiting for whitetails to materialize
snow was falling and geese filled the graying skies     strings on the horizon
before dropping into the freshly cut corn field
draped over acres and acres like an ill-woven well-worn blanket
it was cold and the birds kept coming pushing into the northeasterly wind
that drove them from the lake to find their evening meal

this afternoon it’s far warmer the sky is empty
except for three or five tattle-taling jays
and the murder of crows in search of a suitable tree     a loud gang in lazy flight
I sit half-hoping to see a deer but know full-well
that the woods are still and will stay still until nightfall
when the deer rouse to move like smoke in the dusk-light
when I too rouse to make my own way thankful for the hours I was given


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16 Comments

  • Erin Block says:

    You have made me miss harvested fields…and that horizon.
    Damn fine lines.

  • Nice work Mr. Smythe. Glad to see you’ve got time for some good words in between all that fancy film-making.

    • fishingpoet says:

      Thanks Pete. I’m down to only a few lucid moments in any given week anymore – so I’m trying to strike while the iron’s hot.

  • Pete says:

    I like the finshed version way better!! I always see the biggest bucks while duck hunting. And geese when i’m deer hunting. Funny that the same rule applies in your state. Thought it was just a michigan thing?

    • fishingpoet says:

      That’s the damn truth. They all know – but we continue to think they’re just big dummies.
      I appreciate the shout, boss.

  • Steve Z says:

    Stunning words and I’m not that into poetry. Though maybe I am.

    • fishingpoet says:

      I think the world would be a whole lot cooler if everyone was into poetry “)

      Thanks for the kids words, Steve!

  • trutta99 says:

    Emotive picture and words. A kindred soul! Keep up the good work.

  • Well said Matt. Takes me back to my days in the deer woods of South Alabama.

    Thanks for the dekes by the way. I hope mine arrived as well. Cheers.

    • fishingpoet says:

      Thanks C.B.! You don’t hunt anymore?
      Glad you got the dekes – haven’t seen yours yet. Probably in the next day or so.

  • Even though I am not a native speaker of English, I can feel that these words are touching. Have you thought about publishing some volume of verses? However, if you already have published something, please let me know where I can get it.

    Kind regards from Poland

    Arkadiusz Kubale
    -Sztuka Lowienia magazine-

    • fishingpoet says:

      Thank you Arkadiusz! I very much appreciate you taking the time to not only stop by the blog, but to leave a comment as well. I’ve thought plenty of publishing a book – something I’m sure will happen eventually. That said, I’ve been fortunate to have individual pieces in journals through the years. As a matter of fact, I’ve got a prose poem due out in the next Fly Fish Journal.
      Be well.
      Matt

  • River Mud says:

    Neat post and a symbolic one for me. Since I had a kid and got into management, there are almost no middle-of-the-day anythings anymore. When the days are short, I can sneak some mornings in. When the days are long, mornings and evenings are in play. Middle of the day seems like the time that no one around me can afford for me to give away.

    • fishingpoet says:

      Those stolen hours are just enough to get you through. They’re even better once the young’uns are able to get out with you too.
      Have a great New Years, RM. Thanks for stopping by.

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