The birds begin to sing at first of morning light.
As I sit on a stump quietly since the end of night.
I hold within my hands is my bow with an arrow across it.
Looking for the perfect elk to finish with a submit.
I don’t make any sudden movements as I gaze upon the tress.
Hoping something will jump out with enough time before it flees.
As I wait I pray for the lord to bring me my next meal.
And hope he does not disappoint with an conceal.
Because a man as me does not believe in luck.
That is for people who have no idea how to believe like a schmuck.
I wait and wait and wait with no sign of anything.
Maybe I must be in the wrong spot for the lord to bring.
I decide to migrate north and moving slow through the forest.
Before nature does its magic and provides an elk of full nourished.
Of food and water in it stomach and mind to have keen senses.
I slowly draw my bow but the elk is to apprehensive.
He leaps as I release my bow, I have missed.
It hit him but it wasn’t enough but maybe just kissed.
He ran off and I have now lost my best arrow.
But I will definitely make sure I get him tomorrow.