I was inspired to poetry during this year’s elk season. The following is the poem I wrote about the drawing power of this awesome animal.
Ode to the Elk Hunter
The patient plodding seems without end,
Another daunting peak, another perilous climb.
I pause to reconsider, and ask the pines,
“Just what am I doing out here?”
The answer comes floating on a breeze
In a distant canyon, hidden by fate.
The bugle of a bull elk!
Nature’s sweetest call beckons me,
Nay, begs me, “This way, Friend.”
My senses alert, my heart a resonating drum,
I climb. The majesty of this animal
Pulls me through brush, canyons, and cliffs.
The soles of my feet sear with burning pain,
My lungs thirst for air that doesn’t come.
Just as I pause to rest my wearied body,
Motivation bugles in my ear and off I go.
Through God’s greenest, most beautiful country
I let my steps fall, one in front of the other.
Nearer I climb to that mystical sound,
Pulled half by fear and half by pure thrill.
Finally, close enough to call to him
I spot the bull walking away with his harem.
Disappointed? Not in the least.
Because when the time comes
That nature and a bugle can’t keep me going,
That’s the day they’ll lay this elk hunter to rest.
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