I was maybe
Thirteen or a year older
This was a year or two before
I'd throw away a life and trade it In
For a mediocre pair of socks that had holes in them
Autumn familiarity surrounded me in the
Leaves and smell of gun powder
An atmosphere of cliche childhood memories
Of magnificent tales and bullshit stories
I wasn't old enough to hunt alone yet
Despite having a mentality older than my father
I got up when a veil of frost and moonlight
Still blanketed the land and its inhabitants
My father who I still thought a hero
Made his mix of vodka and mud
I stocked up in my stockings
Hunter orange and a loaded .270
My father grabbed his coat and beer
We walked out the door at a time when moments like this
Still mattered to us
We walked into the Hiawatha Forest to our blind
This is was a year or two before
I had found the fairness of stalking
So much more appealing
We found the small hut
Of old cedar logs and pine in a thicket
Of old cedar and swamp grass
We entered and began the wait
Hours turned to seconds and vice versa
A roller coaster of waves all depending
On my imagination
Soon a small doe came in
My father grew out of his hazy eyed vodka slumber
And shoved the gun into my weak arms
This was to be the one I killed
I had my apprehensions
The method of sitting and waiting
Of baiting and training the deer like pets
To come to us seemed odd to me
Shooting such a young deer
Seemed odd to me
The weather seemed off
And I had doubt about this
But my mind was easily sculpted back then
I took the gun
Took a breath and shot
A better than mediocre shooter by then
I took pride in one shot
In a humane kill,
Something no one ever gave me
And something I didn't give the deer
I could blame it on the pressure
The slight rainy atmosphere
The few drops of precipitation on my gun
Or the wind
But I didn't give that deer what It deserved
Low and far right of it's broadside shoulder
It slipped and cried
Squealed, it echoed through the forest
As the forest fell deathly silent
My dad cheered
I thought it barbaric
The deer was on the cusp of dying
I'd have to walk up to it
Look it in the eye
And see the helplessness
The feeling of defeat and
Just why
I saw fleeting life in its dark brown eyes
I saw an emotion conveyed
That there are no words for
Because words aren't meant for
Such strong and heart pulling emotion between
The living and dying
If there was the whole world
Would be dead
I'd have to shoot it one more time
Right In the heart
I felt the bullet
The animal took 10 minutes to die
Its chest heaved one last time
Such,
A horrible sound erupted from it's broken cords
As life finally left the battered being
The rain weather turned to a thunderstorm
Lighting and heavy drops of precipitation
From the sky and my eyes
I stood above the physical form
Of my wrong doing
I cried in the rain
I was the animal
And that which I had just killed
Was the human
