Poem describes the life of a hunter’s wife

wifeThe Deer Hunter’s Wife

It starts with the dove all fatted and gray

She knows it soon will be opening day


The air is crisp with the scent of fall

He’s very excited to try his new grunt call


She never tries to fight it, for there is no use

At least this year she doesn’t have to learn how to cook up a moose


He has been waiting all year for this day to come

When he can pull the trigger on that long-barreled gun


The freezer is empty, she has run out of ground

She never thought she would make it through those last ten pounds


And again he returns to his old camo blind

He’s after that nine with a single drop tine


She takes off the silk and pulls out the flannel

Instead, he will be stalking some antlered animal


Why bother shaving? She has no desire

At this moment he is warmed by the deer camp fire


twifeShe knows that he loves her, but his heart is torn

He has been a deer hunter since the day he was born


This year seems colder than years before

How will she make it through three months more?


He checks all the pictures on the game camera card

At least she is thankful there are no pigs in her yard


She finds corn in the dryer and burrs in her jammies

Thank the Lord, so far, she’s found none in her panties


She has washed all his camo with Scent-Lok soap

As she hangs up the Realtree, she vows not to mope


While he lines up his sights on a big black hog

Her toes are warmed by a pile of dogs


She searches her cookbooks and pulls out the All-Clad

How in hell does one cook an aoudad?


The house will be clean, but for him she yearns

She leaves on the lights and awaits his return


Oh Lord, please let him have horns in that truck

But, just where will he put that son of a buck?