Early morning frost, crunching underfoot
Gentle, chilly, dark grey water ripplin’
Soon the gloomy nighttime will be kaput
Frigid mirror reflects warm colors risin’

With the plooshing of set decoys tempting
The whine of bird’s wings heard over head
Enticing calls flawlessly attempting
Comments drifting, “sure beats being in bed.”

Feet down, eyes fixed, naive birds displaying
The camoed hunter emerges slickly
From his cloaked blind, nestled in grass swaying
Spotting danger, wary game flare quickly

Swiftly taking aim, roaring shots ring out
Morning bounty plunges, hunters glad shout!