TALE OF TWO HUNTERS

In my stand before the break of day
as starry sky turns to dawn gray
awaiting a nice whitetail buck
to fill my freezer with some luck
should he choose to come my way

Here in this copse of mature pines
beside a thicket of briers and vines
for company a pair of gray squirrels
with tails held in question mark curls
I scan surroundings for antler tines

On the logging road which forms a border
'tween thicket's confusion and pine's order
a red fox sneakily trots by
as if to a meeting he must hie
he startles at least one acorn hoarder

He goes around a bend and out of sight
beneath full morning sun's cold light
and thus exits from my mind
all is safe the squirrels' tails signed
a far turkey leaves roost to my right

a nuthatch alights on a near limb
dressed all in gray, somber and dim
all around stirs woodland life
of all save deer the forest is rife
as I quietly sit and wait for Him

Scanning the woods like in a trance
I seek all my senses to enhance
then comes movement down the logging road
returns the fox with a furry load
a rabbit he came upon by chance

The squirrels start scolding really loud
as old red walks with head high and proud
with his reward clutched in his toothy mouth
he disappears off to the south
toward his mate and den, I allowed

Then came a breeze, the merest puff
blown toward where the land is rough
wafting my scent way out there
for all the bucks and does to share
the least whiff but quite enough

For now a good ways out of sight
my trepidation turned out right
some deer smell me and start to snort
blowing my location, hunt's abort
the chance of success becomes slight

I descend and head back toward my truck
an errant breeze has doomed my luck
but there will be another day
and who is to know or even say
next time I may be the 'lucky duck"

trying a different rhyme scheme. Does it seem forced?