Carcass tags and bragging rights,
the manly smell of oiled stocks,
camouflaged jackets and heavy boots,
send hunters into the cold
to play soldiers again
and notch another kill.
Meat for steaks and stews
are a another reason for the hunt,
and then again there’s
the thinning the herd
to keep nature in line.
Some mornings during season
I wake to find elk inside my fences
as large and looming as buffalo.
They lift their heads
at the report of scoped rifles.
When I point my camera,
they slowly amble into the woods
and ever as slowly return.
Old timers swear elk know
where to find “No Hunting” signs.
I have had a bull
with an eight point rack
climb the steps of my porch
and look into the glass.