Hunting in a box stand
on a piece of  leased land
waiting, buck to walk by
wind and rain from the sky

Feeder goes off, throwing corn
day after thanksgiving morn
little six point walks by
it makes you want to cry

Because he's not 13 inches wide
waiting, shift in the chair side to side
check out the windows, all directions
ones bound to walk by, expectations

Pair of doe hop in feeder
disappear behind a cedar
waiting is hunting
hunting is waiting

Antlers is all you see
coming from behind that tree
stops and smells your doe scent lure
supposed to work simple and pure

Be still now, move real slow
slide your rifle out the window
calm your breathing look through the scope
with buck fever now you must cope

Aim behind the shoulder, hold your breath
pull the trigger hope for instant death
takes a few steps, down he goes
more points than you have fingers and toes

Pack up your stuff, go get the truck
bring it back, load the buck
gut, skin and quarter
do it in that order

Don't forget the tenders and straps
into sausage but those perhaps
in the cooler all that goes
become fried steak with potatoes

How bout gravy and some beans
sounds like dinner know what I mean
what you hope for every time
doesn't always sitting in the blind.

Back in the stand for evening hunt
doe ***** scent and call that grunts
binoculars to take a look
**** the time, a good book

Feeder throws at 4:25
be ready now,  look alive
here they come, three doe's
eating on corn they go

All three heads come up and look
ready haunches about to book
relax again, another doe
hoped for a buck, all is woe

Look through binos, scan around
just a bunch of cactus mounds
waiting and watching, patiently
called hunting, not killing you see

Wait, and wait some more
fox walks by the stand door
doe's look up, they are spooked
I get ready to aim and shoot

Big eight walks out in full stride
has to be twenty-four  inches wide
look through the scope, see a drop tine
not an eight but a big boss nine

He's not stopping, I grunt the call
turns broadside, ready to fall
squeeze the trigger, feel the kick
he kicks once, dead right quick

Work begins once more
break out the knife start the chore
gut and skin And quarter again
thank goodness I brought my friend

Fill the freezer for the year
day is done time for a beer