By: Kevin Dunse

Across the marsh, the morning dew
Across the marsh, and through the slough
The hunter trudges, in the dark
Across the marsh, he does embark

Through the swamp, below the hill
The hunter searches for a thrill
In the eve or in the light
The hunter’s hunting’s never trite

For through the slough and in the marsh
In conditions, light or harsh
Up the valley, ‘round the bends
The hunter’s hunting never ends

For fresh game, the hunter searches
In the valleys or in the birches
A hunter’s hunting is eternal
Never ending, Fall or vernal

But when each expedition closes
A new recollection it proposes
Across the marsh and in his head
A hunter’s hunting’s never dead.


Kevin Dunse is 18 years old and from rural Wisconsin. When he is not writing, he loves to spend his spare time outdoors, and some of his favorite activities are hunting, fishing, trapping, foraging, and hiking.

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay