scribbler
Jul 15, 2018

BIGFOOT YEARS

Once I was a younger guy
not yet thirty years of age
with no appreciation for my youth.
A foolish youth on life's fresh stage.

Fate brought to me a place to hunt.
I now realize how special this place was
though at the time I had no clue
as I consumed life without pause.

There dwelt upon this remote place
a huge buck, Bigfoot was his name
which I sought for many years.
The years went by, he never came,

Others saw him but not me
yet his signatures were everywhere:
destroyed saplings almost trees
large pawed out breed scrapes here and there.

While seeking this ghost I never saw
I saw other deer and learned a lot
and like my companions gathered lesser deer
but Bigfoot was never shot.

Until one season he was...gone,
perhaps the victim of old age
and with him went his mystery
preserved now only on this page.

Now a near life time from that place
where I've not set foot since it was sold,
when hunting I still think of him
perhaps because I'm growing old.......

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: South Carolina, United States, USA

Favorite Poets: Frost

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Comments

Geezer

who gives a shit that the scansion sucks in a few places? I really enjoyed this one and I can relate to it perfectly. ~ Gee.
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S

My scansion suck? what a shock lol. Not to worry though as I'll clean this up over time so that the heart of the poem will be the same but it won't grate so badly. Thanks for the visit......stan