It's that time of year
When I sit here
Freezing my rear
Waiting for deer.
I use my ears
So I can hear
The sounds so clear
Of white-tailed deer,
Hoping they are near
And haven't disappeared.
Boredom appears
As I wish I had a beer,
Then the sound nears
And I finally peer
At a white-tailed deer.
The time is now here
To kick it in to gear
But the fear reappears;
It's so severe
That my mind is unclear.
I can't persevere,
And the deer disappears.
Darn...maybe next year!
