Twas the Hunt Before Christmas

‘Twas a month before Christmas And I grabbed my gun, To hunt the wiley wapiti, Hoping to get a big one. I chanced upon a big elk track Pressed deep in the snow, The tips of its cloven hoofs Pointed the way I should go. The track was a bit strange, Just different, somehow. But they were big and deep, Likely a bull and not a cow. I finally got a glimpse Of a grayish-colored hide, Gray?…elk are usually black on the neck And reddish tan on the side. There! The tip of an antler! Positively a bull! I raised…

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