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Pheasant Hunt

When I can barely see the sun, I put on my clothes and get out the shot gun. My bird dog is my shadow all full of excitement and love because he knows he'll soon be able to run. We load in the truck and drive to the site where we hunt pheasant with all our might. My dog is my best friend. He knows me well, as he flushed up a rooster and the first one fell. When we come home all tired and sore, we know the next day we'll be ready for more. It doesn't matter how much time we spend, as there's nothing better than hunting with my best friend.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2010




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Date: 7/3/2016 12:49:00 AM
DONNA, enjoyed reading your poem, thank you for sharing your thoughts through words. *SKAT*
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Date: 11/14/2010 1:30:00 AM
well written
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Date: 10/29/2010 12:45:00 PM
Thank you for posting your excellent poetry here at PoetrySoup so we all may read it Donna. May your weekend be one of much joy to you and may it bring inspiration to the end of your pen. Wishing you the best in any contestd you have entered or are going to enter this weekend. Love, Carol
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