Come with me in the cold light rain
I've built a stand to keep us dry
when dripping trees beat a refrain
beneath this last gray winter sky
....It's been too long since you've been out.

We'll ride my truck but not too far
just through a forgotten southern town
( We'll not talk about your cancer's scar
or anything which makes us frown)
....We'll talk of when we both were stout.

So we'll tell each other well worn tales
and pretend we've not heard them before,
of fishing or hunting sly whitetails
in remote places where eagles soar;
....places which we both hold dear.

Yes, we once stalked there.. and there
in almost every copse we pass
when we spent time without a care
as, unseen, life slowly filled our glass
....putting our futures in arrears.

I'll drive slow on these gravel traces
and dodge the wash boards when I can,
but they're common in these kinds of places
where deer, by far, out number man.
....I know each bump causes you pain.

Well, here we are; I'll park the truck.
The cold rain has paused at least for now.
We'll reach the stand dry with some luck,
it's just past that near ridge's brow.
....We should get there with little strain.

No need to hurry on our way,
we can pause to rest when e're you please
and listen to the tall pines sway
or watch a hawk sail in the breeze.
....It's odd to see you with a staff.

See! the stand is here already.
I built it big enough for two
with a seat that's comfortable and steady
and window slots to catch the view,
....a place where we can watch and laugh.

We sit and watch the world unseen,
talk low though hunting season's through
and soon a blue jay lights to preen
as a 'possum waddles into view.
....and the pain at last deserts your eyes.

Wood ducks whistle past, not seen, just heard
then a squirrel exits his den tree,
To wet and cold he is injured
the price for being wild and free.
....He finds a nut to our surprise.

Both of us just sit, quiet and still
watching over this cold hardwood hollow
from our station on this ridge's hill
waiting to see what will follow
....as we've both done so many years.

Far off some turkeys fuss and cackle
and the misty rain resumes its fall
which disrupts a feeding grackle
from issuing its mating call.
....For just a bit time slows its gears.

Both at once we spot a deer;
a young buck with one antler shed
which looks strange as he walks by here
with his out of balance head.
....On both faces a grin appears.

But I hear you grunt then sigh
a signal that it's time we go.
As one we stand, glance at the sky
where there flies a single crow.
.....Who knows if we'll be back again?