Wild Rice Tree Stand; Closure

Wild Rice Tree Stand; Closure

Again, I walked across the chunky, dirt field towards the tree,
Moses, the German Shepherd, stayed back away from me.
Hooking my rifle to a cord, I ascended, then, after tethering my harness, I drew it up.
I engaged my gun, ammo ready, safety on,
Waiting, watching, for any kind of movement.
A small blue-winged bird hopped around, pecking at the trees on both sides of me,
Bobbing, like a drinking bird toy until he flew away.
A couple squirrels rustled the leaves,
The moon, nearly full, began to rise from the east,
The river glistened as I looked to the west, until the sun nearly set,
I almost descended, as dusk began,
The woods were still, so I glanced across the barren field.
Amazingly, along the treeline, a buck grazed,
Nearly eighty yards away, I peered through my scope,
Reassuring my gaze that he was indeed an antlered buck,
I shot and missed, he stood tall, and statue-still,
My second shot, I later learned, entered both shoulders,
The next shot hit his liver, as he lay on the ground,
I shot my final round, which missed,
As he kicked, then layed down.
I texted, then lowered my gun,
My ambiguious feelings of the hunt Intertwined,
In my mind.
A creature so beautiful, graceful and alive, one moment,
Then, due to my actions, he lay so still, without further movement.
His eyes, reflecting the setting sun,
Glared at me, sadly, as my mind fully registered what I had just done.

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