SaltyCajun.com - A little poetry for my SC family

"The sound of Whistling Wings"

The sound of small fighter jets overhead,
it's what makes us get out of bed.
Early morning talk and breakfast
Leads to eager bodies ready to blast
The walk to the blind makes you wonder
How many times will your gun thunder
After the decoys are set out
It's now time without a doubt.
Then the sound everyone dreams of
The sound of whistling wing from above
5minutes left till you can shoot
All you can hear is the sound of a coot
Then comes the splashes of life
You can then cut the adrenaline with a knife.
Finally the first shot rings out
And now you know without a doubt
The smell of gunfire everywhere
And you start blasting without a care
Birds buzzing ppl calling
Shotguns firing birds falling
Mojos at work, dogs as well
Can anyone see where that bird fell?
Back to the camp everyone smiles
And start dropping the limits into piles
After they are cleaned and its time to sit on your tail
The one upper guy has a story it never fails.
Opening day is done and no sorrow?
Why? because we are going to do it again tomorrow!!!!

GOOD LUK AND BE SAFE !!!
- Brad Guillotte-