Deer Hunting in Rain

The sky is in the understory.
I’m sitting in my stand, soaked Zen.

A minor god keeps tapping his finger
on my hat. You. You. You.

If one comes,
I’m one with the idea

of killing it. It will make
two dozen meals to be thankful

over. I’ve achieved
the fifth level of wetness,

my coveralls darkened
like the trees’ bark.

This baptism has taken
all morning, but I’m

totally immersed.
Nothing arrives. Then spooks.

*Born and raised in the foothills of the Virginia Blue Ridge, Michael Chitwood is now a free-lance writer living in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. He is a graduate of Emory & Henry College (BA) and the University of Virginia (MFA). Ohio Review Books has published two books of his poetry—Salt Works (1992) and Whet (1995). His third book, The Weave Room, was published by The University of Chicago Press in the Phoenix Poets series (Spring 1998). His collection of essays, Hitting Below the Bible Belt, was published by Down Home Press in 1998. Chitwood is a regular commentator for radio station WUNC-FM. His book reviews and articles have appeared in newspapers and magazines including the Greensboro News & Record, Charlotte Observer and the Raleigh News & Observer magazine.