Three a.m., the alarm blares;
Hit it quick, no one else cares.
You dress warm, camo is your decision;
Check your gun, for precision.
Load the gun in the truck, and get the dog;
Quietly, mama is still sleeping like a log.
Get to the marsh, still dark out, and pretty damned cold;
Hunting ducks is a young man’s sport, can’t take the freeze when you’re old.
Put out the decoys, the water is freezing;
Don’t splash, not even in teasing.
Set up the blind, get in it with the Lab, and wait for duck;
Will get many shots, if you have some luck.
See some dots in the sky, and pull out your call;
Jump up and bust their ass, and watch them fall.
They all fly by, not a one was hurt;
Oh hey, you got duck shit on your shirt.
Shot all day, none a winner;
Looks like KFC, will be for dinner.
I’ll be back tomorrow, to shoot at a duck;
So it’s cold, wet and miserable, I say “What the ****”.
Readers’ Note: I’ve been duck hunting a few times and I’d much rather do my hunting in the frozen foods section of my local grocery store, lol.
Spider Michaels
