In olden days—defined as those days
before which there were conveniences
taken for granted by those currently
enjoying newer days—the hunter
was revered, hailed as hero
benefactor to women and children,
brave to march forth into wilderness
with little else than a wooden shaft or
sharpened blade and his bare hands
muscle against muscle, skin and hide,
tree and ground, and always at a distinct
disadvantage, so is it any wonder why
the image of disembodied antlers still
strikes us to our primordial core
these days—defined as days during
which the current generation fails
utterly to appreciate that which has
come before—men set forth with guns
and crossbows, scopes and pulleys,
with the same strut and swagger
take away their carbines and titanium
shafts and German optics and give
them a stick and a scent on the wind
and then see who is boss.