The woods are calling
To gather us together
Old men, young men
Travel from here, everywhere
Gathering back home.
Gear in the back of pickups
Wives and youngin's kissed
Waving goodbye
See y'all soon.
Deer camp calls to us
Calling to our mountain souls
Remindin' us of how it was
Maybe how it should be.
We gather over campfires
Laugh and tell old stories
Of hunts forgotten
Old friends remembered
New stories waiting for their telling.
It is a treasure
To gather with old men, young boys
To laugh, listen and be.
No comments:
Post a Comment