A Brave Shooter

He’d been gunning all day

     In the usual way,

He saw nothing but robins and crows;

     He had blazed at a jay,

     But it flew right away,

With its claw sticking up to its nose.

     When the twilight drew near,

     He’s a feeling of fear,

Then a hoot owl hooted “who hoo!”

     And he dropped his new gun,

     To the village did run,

And swore he was chased by a big caribou.

     There are hooters who hoot,

     There are shooters who shoot,

There are gunners who gun every fall;

     But the shooter who scoots

     When the hooter hoo-hoots,

Is the bravest “shoo” shooter of all.

April 9, ‘99

June 1, ‘99

N.E.S.