What Will I Remember?

What will I dream about?

The last shot of the day,

the season at 4:00 o'clock

when three deer came out of the sun

across the top of the hill

heading towards a tree stand

I had found.

They came and stopped,

then moved, 

taking them out of the sunlight,

put them more into it.

I drew on the first 

but the last one started to raise her tail

move her ears and stomp

I shot. 

Too soon! 

Stayed still,

but could not reload 

fast enough

They walked away 

across the upper bowl of the valley.

I never hunt without

learning something.

I have already

dreamed and seen 

that scene a dozen times —

it will stay with me until next season

to see

if I will know any more then

than I did the other day

the last day

the last shot

when deer walked away.

-Byron Hoot

https://hootnhowlpoetry.com