‘Twas the day after Labor Day

with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore

‘Twas the day after Labor Day and all through the town
Not a creature was stirring, but there were a few hounds;
The Boggy was empty and Front Beach was bare,
It was hard to find evidence of the crowds who’d been there.
The boats were all hung in their stalls with great care,
In hopes that the first cold front soon would be there;
Town children were sitting in their school room;
Daydreaming of when they’d catch a big ‘poon;
The wife and I had just started our very first wade
With hopes of some spec’s or some redfish to trade,
When out in the ditch there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to the boat to see what was the matter.
Away to the jetties I flew in a rush,
And saw three or four airboats filled full of brush.
It was only duck hunters getting ready for fall,
Building their blinds and having a ball.
I did hear some curses as palm stems took their toll,
But nothing could slow them as they continued to roll.
Dove season comes next and some other small birds,
Duck’s come soon thereafter, then deer in large herds.
But now in the present and for weeks yet not here,
Our sleepy little village is a good place to drink beer.
Enjoy the peace, the quiet, and the calm;
For soon other pursuits will wake us at dawn.