stand-off by two desert hunters
where rock as small as quarters
quick stab of scorpion in head
stun its adversary; battle over
toxin spreading quick; heartbeat
pieces of flesh torn from limbs
night would be long consuming
delicacy of a winning trophy
tomorrow would be another hunt
scent guided nose tipping stones
looking for victorious yesterday
undeterred by heat persistent
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem