Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Deer Season
An autumn morning in the chilly woods
The campfire mostly ashes grey and warm
Some early riser fumbling with the stove
To light the gas and set the coffee pot
On a hissing circle of thin blue fire
While an outraged fox squirrel protests everything
The leaves are damp, pale-pearled with yawning light
From a weak, shivering November sun -
Dogs, men, boys, guns, boots, biscuits, pipes, cigars
Dawn sighing in the pine tops this perfect day
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