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.