Jimmy’s Stump

In a forest near a small town
Where men go to hunt
There sits a stump where a tree once stood,
Strong and unshakable,
Cut down in its prime.
It bears the name of one taken too soon –
Husband, brother, uncle, friend.

All year it sits
Waiting for October,
Waiting for trailers and tents,
For coffee on the campstove
And stories around the campfire.
Only then does the spirit rejoice
In the cameraderie of brotherhood and friendship.



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