Elmer Fudd
Rabbit Season — Duck Season
Pop, pop, pop,
goes the weasel yet pops.
Break of dawn
sounds of battlefields
when will they stop?
Send in the hounds
AI disrupting the calls.
Two in boat
retrievers for the man
laying on his back.
Old ways retrieving
shorthairs gone.
Now trolling motors
waiting with extended site
to collect carnage left in wake.
Hours passing by
pop, pop, pop
goes the cannons call.
Returning to the scene
of the crime
bagging and tagging a few more.
Daffy, Bugs, and Elmer
arguing to what day it is.
When will it stop?
a fortnight, maybe times two.
Walking water’s edge
Chequamegon Bay
tainted by bloodshed
of a foul and disturbing thought.
Hunter’s claim
yet another soul.
Lost are the free
spirited quackers
bathing in blood of their brothers and sisters.
~Ani Po
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