|
Lucky 13 by the Bay
Started the morning late after shots begun.
Walking across the mud flats lit by early sun.
Ducks burst off the water in a cloud.
Surrounded by calling and wing beats so loud.
Mainly Teal they leave in a furry.
We let them pass and set up in a hurry.
Hoping that by not taking early shot.
We’ll cause them to return to this special spot.
Sure enough before decoys are spread.
Birds circle back low over head.
We hunker down in the reed-lined blind.
Ducks out front and more behind.
In comes the first group at full commit.
Wings cupped, feet down, wanting to sit.
We jump up swing fast, shots ring out.
Teal rain from the sky more circle about.
Birds on the water, the dog races out.
Brings one back again, “Lincoln back” we shout.
While we watch our four legged friend.
Tireless romp once more we send.
Now back in the blind things settle down.
When off in the distance we hear the sound.
Wing beats coming from all directions.
More birds, so close, than any recollection.
Once again we answer the call.
Jump up, fire and watch ‘em fall.
The birds kept coming; we couldn’t scare them away.
We started so late we almost gave up the day.
A limit sat dangling from the rail.
Decoys packed up and we were back on the trail.
Headed out with smiles, an ear to ear grin.
The sucking mud grabbing all the way to the shin.
We made it out and back up to the truck.
Waders laden with pounds of extra muck.
Decoy bags off the shoulders.
Birds heavy now like a sack of boulders.
These minor pains of a hunt to remember.
The memory sweet of this cold day in December.
When birds flew despite late mornings start.
I’ll cherish it always holding it deep in my heart.
Copyright ©2000 Carl Gerard |
|
|
|
|