Deer Season

 

 

 

Mossy wet fresh woods air

A distant shot

The leaves, thick and matted

Trees rot in the dark morning woods

Coffee is strong

The smells of a kitchen- butter, salt, eggs, and sausage

A too cold breeze through the window and

Cuddling cats

“Good Morning America”

Heavy socks and chilled noses.

Boots, gloves, the sound of ammunition rattles in a box

The thought of fresh kill

Makes me shudder,

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