Brian Joseph Dickenson

Rookie (Not dead yet. Born in the first half of the last century. / Liverpool, England)

Shooting - Poem by Brian Joseph Dickenson

The air is crisp. The sky is clear.
The frost it bites and stings the ear.
I walk with gun, and dog at heel.
Life is good; or so I feel.

The cattle low and breathe out steam.
Lace-like ice embroiders stream.
A crow drifts by; it tries its voice.
It lives or dies; I have the choice.

It will never know how close it came
To being a dead pawn in my game.
But on this day I bear no ill
For crow or fox upon the hill.

Enough to walk and feel alive.

Comments about Shooting by Brian Joseph Dickenson

  • Brian Dorn (8/9/2006 3:03:00 PM)

    Brian, absolutely a great poem... right on target! !
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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 9, 2006

Poem Edited: Tuesday, August 24, 2010

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