The hum of insects,
tall weeds blow in the breeze,
mesquite leaves sway in time,
as I chalk the edges of my call.

Put, put, put, put,
the turkey call sings,
wait for a beat,
gobble gobble gobble.

Big tom turkey replies,
he is not far,
as I pull on my camo mask and gloves,
and become one with the tree I lean on.

12 gauge is loaded and ready,
I hit the call again, put, put, purr,
he responds again closer,
ah, there he is at the edge of the field.

Purple thistle blooms and blue bonnets,
dot the field he must cross,
tom turkey dances full strut,
as I hit the call again.

Brown feathers with iridescent accents,
fully extended tail fan peacock style,
as he approaches my hen decoy,
hit the call gobble and bang.

Turkey dinner has been harvested,
and nature has been communed with,
thanks nature for the bounty and the beauty,
and the meal in the making.