Hunting in Virginia at Fifteen

When I was only just a teen
My father said to me,
You want to go, where the big bucks grow
And see what there is to see?

High, in the Shenandoah Highlands
Deep in the heart of the wild,
To a camp, for my very first deer hunt
Went a greenhorn teenage child.

Sleep eluded me all the first night
With thoughts so rampant in me,
So while we walked, my dad would talk
Of what lay ahead to see.

So much like only, my father would do
As he handed to me his gun,
“It shoots just where you aim it!
I’m sure you can handle it, Son!”

This was hunting, for the very first time
And so, I thought just a bit.
What did Dad mean, when he said to me
“It shoots, just where you aim it?”

If a buck were afar, from me standing still
Would I aim high, for the bullet to drop?
How far out ahead, would a buck have to be
For the bullet to drop or not?

The week was a joyous occasion
Thirteen bucks, I did see.
Twenty-one shots, I fired from Dad’s gun
With no buck to show, for me.

Hindsight tells me, I surely shot high
On those bucks with a monstrous rack.
However, it’s clear, that some of those deer
Left with a scar down its back!