Letter: A hunting poem

Just in time for the Manitoulin Island gun deer hunt

Hunting Poem 

I opened my eyes and gave a yawn:

I could see that it was almost dawn.

Threw back the covers, hopped out of bed;

I had a purpose in my head.

Quickly dressed without a sound,

Across the field I was bound.

A silver sparkle on thin snow,

I tread as quietly as I could go.

Picked my way along the river,

As I looked up- it made me quiver,

I stared at it, but not for long

I knew that it would soon be gone.

I put my left foot on the boulder,

Brought my gun up to my shoulder,

Pulled the trigger, heard the sound:

The eight point buck dropped to the ground.

Evelyn Santos

Tehkummah, November 1995