The Final Hunt
Elemental elderberry drooping from its vine
thrives along a rock wall near the wood
habitat for fat, old turkeys, deer and porcupine
and sundry birds who think it very good
here I sit with trusty weapon nestled in my lap
watching every rustle of the trees
hoping that the autumn sunshine won’t bring on a nap
or that I do not cough or start to sneeze
many years have come and gone since first I hunted here
the old rock wall seems smaller than it did
the berry vines seem shorter too, but this is not so queer
for I viewed them then as just a kid
the waters of a nearby lake now sparkle in the sun
as overhead, cloud ships go sailing by
daydreaming of the places I have been and things I’ve done,
a moisture starts to gather in my eye
but that soon passes, and again, my vigil I attend
peering into underbrush and stone
I move a bit and old bones crackle as they try to bend
but then I sense that I am not alone
a whitish snout pokes through the trees with antlers lifted high
the aging buck now sniffs the air and snorts
surprised as much by me as I by him now passing by
and suddenly we both are out of sorts
I raise my rifle, start to aim, but something’s wrong inside
the old, familiar hunter mode seems trite
for he, like me, has lived quite long and traveled far and wide
to end his life like this would not be right
with weapon down, I wave my arms, the old deer snorts again
I give a yell that scatters local birds
he bounds away but I can tell his joints are stiff with pain
it is a moment much too strong for words
C. Lon R. Bruso
Comments
Hi Lonnie
I might have to borrow "cloud ships" sometime lol. I really relate to this as while I become older it seems the hunt is gaining the upper hand over the trigger. And I think Any hunter will tell you that there's a degree of loss at the end of each successful hunt. Alas there is no venison chili or chops without that sudden ending and from the deer's perspective perhaps it's preferable to disease, predation and slow starvation from teeth wearing out. BTW I liked this a lot. Only thing you might consider is the gray snout. As a deer ages the snout actually becomes whiter instead of grayer..............stan
Thanks Stan
You are absolutely right about the snout color, I should have noticed that error myself! Glad you enjoyed the poem!
I'm glad you didn't shoot,
I'm glad you didn't shoot, poets shouldn't kill Deer we should revere them. LOL. Flows nicely apart from the last line verse three, (for i viewed them then as just a kid) i wonder if ( for i viewed them then when i was just a kid) or (for i viewed them then as just a happy kid) maybe helps with the flow. Nice poem just the same.. Regards Roscoe..
Fuck me dead, man,
whatever differences you and I have had over the years I have never under-estimated you as a poet.
This left me with feelings I can't explain and don't need to, because the poem does it perfectly.
My only slight qualm is with the line
as overhead, cloud ships go sailing by
it is, perhaps, a tad cliched.
Strangest of all, I have never hunted, never fired a gun and yet I felt as though I was there.
I would love to record this in my own voice for you, but given our history I think that would be presumptuous without permission.
Thank you Jess
I hardly know what to say, and that in itself is a rarity! My hunting days have been over for a few years now, as I am not so agile in the woods anymore. But I still like to go and find a quiet place to sit and watch the wildlife as they go their merry ways. You are no doubt correct on the cloud thing, and I admit I used it simply because it fit the rhyme scheme! Also, I apologize for mocking your poetic accolades in my critique of your poem, that was quite uncalled for. As for you doing this poem in your own voice, be my guest! As is the case with all of my poetry, I could care less how anyone uses it as long as they stop to read it first! LOL!! Seriously, I have listened to a few of your readings, and your vocal abilities are quite good, so have at it!
No apology necessary,
we've gone at it hammer and tongs like the cranky old bastards we both are many times, and I certainly regret things I've said, especially in all too un-editable chat.
I would be honoured to read your poem, but not tonight, I'm barely awake and could not do it any justice, if I can at all. It's guaranteed to sound weird to your ear anyway in my Aussie accent..
Thanks, mate.
Hi Lonnie
Good to connect again and read your post. I found it very captivating creating good imagery with mobility. The poem also conveys sensitivity to animals, as it also does portray how changes over a period of time affect us, as also the overwhelming state brought on while reminiscing about "those good old days"...i hope I have connected with what you set out to express through these verses...at least partly if not completely...
Thank you, raj,
You just about covered it all, and I am appreciative of you stopping by to read this and leave me some good feedback!
This is a lovely poem Lonnie
This is a lovely poem Lonnie - Like Jess I felt as if I was there, witnessing the whole scene - such is the power of your poetry. .
Love Mand xxxxx
Thank you, Mand,
This was somewhat of a hard poem to write as I am totally conscious of my own frailty with oncoming age!
Here you go
I frankly think I have offered very little with my interpretation, the poem stands solidly as both written and spoken word. But it is nice, for me anyway, to hear my works through someone else's "ears".
http://vocaroo.com/i/s01OUoB6Ol8a
Thank you very much!
You have an eloquent speaking voice and it brought the poem to life quite impressively, I am honored!
You are most welcome.
I actually have quite a range in my reading voice from what you might call "cultured" through to a highly accented and strongly colloquial Australian accent, you might term "ocker" which would be the Aussie equivalent of "redneck". Although I know that a strong local accent is not necessarily disparaging (some of my best friends are rednecks, teehee) and in some ways may have been appropriate, I couldn't honestly use that accent for this poem, it could too easily have been interpreted as limiting.
Dear Lonnie
This is such a pleasure to read the images are clear and sharp and the feeling at the end of the poem is hard for me to describe but its overwhelming
there are too many great lines to list them, they are all brilliant
bravo my friend you did it again
love to you both JC xxx
Thank you, Jayne
Its a pleasure to hear from you again and as always, I am humbled and honored by your generous review! Hope all is going well for you so far in 2014!
i love this, lonnie
the hunt for me has not ended
its just different. here's my intake on it.
In the concrete jungle , opportunists are the new hunters
hunting for the chances for self-betterment
to face the new challenges in the future
the game has changed, so does the rule
knowledge is the weapon much needed
to gain it one must be willing to learn
ignorance only leads to failure
for those who refused to be a student
Alid
In short, you need to hunt for the certs for survival