Montana

[Bunx]

Watching crows eat roadkill in Montana, my rifle slung across my shoulder,
early morning workers sweating, cursing, as they break apart a boulder
Ice cream truck stops by the roadside, driver shouting “come and get it”,
A lumbering moose the only taker, the angry driver shouts “forget it”.
The river overflows into the valley’s golden corn fields
The farmers lay large sand bags, they fear to loose their yields
Crop duster circles as the crows fly in pursuit
of falling butterflies and ladybugs who perched upon the fruit.
The poison claimed their short lived lives today
bees flee, birds panic, all escaping from the spray
The bobcat spies the moose, in all it’s forest glory
pouncing on its back it sinks its teeth, I cannot watch, too gory.
Thunder in the valley, rain falls ‘cross the land
a forest dweller begs for help, he needs a helping hand
“My daughter ran away without a word into the city,
I only ask for where to search, I do not ask for pity”.
"Dear man what can I say, I’m just a hunter, not raised in Hollywood,
where only bad girls find their way there", the old man understood
He slowly disappears beyond the trees, and softly moans,
The crows have finished with the roadkill and only left the bones.
And me, I think I’ll patch my jeans, and jump into the water
and climb into my pickup truck, go searching for his daughter
I hold a picture I was given, as he walked into the woods
I must admit she is a beauty, and has the proper goods
To drive this man to find her, before she disappears,
into the crowded city streets, that drive young girls to tears
The beauty of Montana, the forest and the farms,
will call me back I pray, with his daughter in my arms

Definitely took and interest in the poem because Montana is where I hail from. I like your the beginning of the poem setting the stage. I would give two suggestions first, I think your poem/pose has good flow and would be highlighted better if you broke your poem up into stanzas

ex:
Watching crows eat roadkill in Montana,
my rifle slung across my shoulder,
early morning workers sweating,

cursing, as they break apart a boulder



Ice cream truck stops by the roadside,

driver shouting “come and get it”,
A lumbering moose the only taker,
the angry driver shouts “forget it”.


In my opinion this helps the reader get the flow and rhythm of poem and breaks down rhyme and ideas.

My second suggestion would change corn to wheat fields. I have rarely seen corn grown in my area of the state but various forms of wheat and hops are around. I really enjoyed the story of the country boy going to Hollywood to rescue a lost lady as well as the imagery in the first half of the poem the moose reminded me of ice cream vendors at glacier park. Anyways good write!

---

i had some formatting issues what the stanzas ignore the random spacing