Not to ruin any ones bit chen mood
but this is an article appearing in a paper some time ago.
Some liked it. You might too.
Dear Abby: Now that hunting season is here
and I see the birds heading south for the winter,
I am reminded of a poignant poem
you published about a goose whose mate was killed by a hunter.
Knowing that geese mate only once in a lifetime,
I was moved to tears when I read it.
Please publish it again. - A Hunter's Wife, Mankato, Minn.
A HUNTERS POEM
A hunter shot at a flock of geese
That flew within his reach.
Two were stopped in their rapid flight
And fell on the sandy beach.
The male bird lay at the water's edge
And just before he died
He faintly called to his wounded mate
And she dragged herself to his side.
She bent her head and crooned to him
In a way distressed and wild
Caressing her one and only mate
As a mother would a child.
Then covering him with her broken wing
And gasping with failing breath
She laid her head against his breast
A feeble honk...then death.
This story is true though crudely told
I was the man in this case.
I stood knee-deep in snow and cold
And the hot tears burned my face.
I buried the birds in the sand where they lay
Wrapped in my hunting coat
And I threw my gun and belt in the bay.
When I crossed in the open boat.
Hunters will call me a right poor sport
And scoff at the thing I did.
But that day something broke in my heart
And shoot again? God forbid!
Lemuel T Ward
Hope you enjoyed the poem. If you didn't...
your an asshole, so fuck ya.
Oh by the way, if your would like to tell me how much this page sucks so far and how sorry you are to have wasted your time reading this shit that I type to fill space since I have no better copy. Click
If that didn't work your out-ta luck I guess. Tough Shit! Stick a ball up your ass and quack.