Running Amuck

Running Amuck
By James E. Webber

The weather is freezing,
The camp stove is frosty.
I need to boil water
To make some hot coffee.

The tent pegs are up
And completely unbound
I think my friend Cody
Is froze to the ground.

The dogs are a barking
Those worthless old hounds,
The water is boiling
But I’m out of grounds.

When out in the clearing
A Bucks running round
He is looking for acorns
But none can be found.

He raises his nose
And his tail in one motion,
Cody jumps up in a frenzied commotion.

He springs for his rifle
And just his bad luck,
He shoots, but he misses,
An 18 point Buck.

He throws down the rifle
And stomping the ground,
He curses and spits,
He is completely unwound.

A boiling and fuming,
He is out of his wits.
He hits the camp stove
Spilling all of the grits.

His hats in the fire, his boots still untied,
He can’t shoot a deer, no matter how hard he tried.

Missing a target the size of that Buck
Could be poor eyesight, not just his bad luck.
Snowed in with bad weather
Near the camp fire I’m stuck
Tonight I’m sleepin
In the back of the truck.
James E. Webber, December, 2009