What Was the Need?

A hunting tale

Ten-point buck in the bushy brush
Silently testing the calm hush
Of the sprouted feed plot, so lush,
No need to rush, No need to rush.

Hunter in camo grips his gun
First time ever he's brought his son
Out for some early morning fun,
Each desires one, each desires one.

The stately deer steps out to eat
Just as the cold rain turns to sleet.
Low'ring his head to the young wheat,
He chomps his treat, he chomps his treat.

Raising the gun and drawing bead
Pulling the trigger ends the deed.
The dying buck begins to bleed.
What was the need? What was the need?