Appalachian Whispers

Cold morning, mist in the air. Rifle loaded, heavy stare.

Footsteps crunching, leaves break. Heart pounds, my faith Beer cans rattling

in the back. Truck bed shake and bump track. Tree stands call my quiet name.

Hunting deers ain't no game. Big old bucks pushing two twenty-five. Eighteen point,

they're so alive. Velvet hide, heart racing high. Palm sweat, trigger pull don't

lie. Brothers all around tonight. Campfire casting shadows bright.

Tales of hunts from years gone by. Underneath that star-filled sky.

Silent moments, nature's cry. Eagles soaring up so high. Appalachian whispers loud.