Gray dust of frost
Tips green with sharp edges
Warm puffs of breath dissipate quickly
I am silent. Still.
The whisper of wind through bare tree tops
Squirrels bark at Blue Jays that steal
My heartbeat quickens as I catch the snapping of twigs
Rustling of leaves is music to my ears
Soon a smudge of brown
Different from the rainbow of neutrals this forest reflects
Moves steadily towards me
My tree stand height is perfect
The kick from my shot gun will be welcomed
An extension of myself wielded
To fill my freezer for these coming months
Of darkness