Duck Hunting Poem by Dwayne Bailey

Pitch black outside, ten below zero,
Man I am freezing cold;
My age is starting to creep up on me,
and boy am I feeling old.
But as the sky starts to lighten,
once black starts to turn blue;
My heart starts to beat a little faster,
my energy and strength are renewed.
Then I see the ducks in the distance,
take off for their morning flight;
I no longer notice the cold,
as I keep the ducks in my sight.
Slowly I start to call,
I see the ducks look my way;
Their checkin out my decoy spread,
and the safety that is displayed.
They circle once, they circle twice,
Then I see them cup their wings;
They are going to try and land,
oh what happiness this brings.
Ten feet or so from the water,
just before they land;
I bring my shotgun to my shoulder,
and steady it with my hands;
I squeeze the trigger slowly,
and let my steel shot fly;
My aim is true, my shot is perfect,
I watch the ducks fall from the sky.