Returning Home

Finally home from a semester's work,
I stretch my legs to December's cold smirk.
The skies foretell of a perfect e'en,
slate blue and heavy with moisture unseen.

I pull on my boots, wool socks and coat,
then cinch up my belt for the fowls' heavy load.
I don my waxed cap and head for water far and remote.
The heavy, tumbling flakes a good hunt forebode.

Weather-worn walnut and bright polished steel,
my shotgun, like a leopard in my hand feels.
She leaps with agility as I mount for sport.
Yet, no bird rises to meet her roaring report.

I tromp through the prairie grass with her alone as my cohort.

I reach the pond dam with daylight to spare.
Breaking my double, I check the pair of high-brassed 4's.
Iridescent green lights the sky as mallards flare.
A day at the university never compares to one on the moors.

Neither Fish nor Fowl: Well, Maybe Fowl

As part of my Advanced Composition class today we were supposed to write a Villanelle poem. An excellent example of a Villanelle is Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night": http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15377 That poem was always one of my favorites! While my work certainly isn't of that caliber I enjoyed writing it. It may not even be a Villanelle, but it's about duck hunting, so it has to be good! :)

The steel grey skies are dark with wings.
A weather-worn barrel with bird-shot sings.
Chopped ice, cork blocks, gun dogs, cold socks.

A drake swings wide and circles the pool.
My hands are cracked; the wind bitterly stings.
The steel grey skies are dark with wings.

I squawk into the call and sound like a fool.
Snow falls downward like heavenly rings.
Chopped ice, cork blocks, gun dogs, cold socks.

I am coated in ice, pond scum and drool.
My fortune is great as fate rarely brings
the steel grey skies are dark with wings.

I sit here alone on this rickety stool.
I drop my shotgun and add to the dings.
Chopped ice, cork blocks, gun dogs, cold socks.

I sip at my coffee and gag 'cause its cool.
A shotgun shell bounces and pings.
The steel grey skies are dark with wings.
Chopped ice, cork blocks, gun dogs, cold socks.