Gone Huntin’ – Fisrt Place, Senior Poetry

Gun in hand gear on back

I took the icy steps.

Before the sun a frost had come the moon showed every

To my delight the sun did light each branch and leaf there

Painted trees with snow I see as November often does.

And up I come as did the sun

On yonder ridge I’ll sit.

With gusts or blows of

sleet or snow

I’ll be content with it.

From here this day I’ll sit and say

there’s nowhere else so fine.

So here I’ll wait this frosty morn

and let the hunt be mine.

Categories: Youth Writing Contest

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *