My dog was hurt; he couldn't hunt,
and left me in the field
To wander into aimlessness,
my prey as yet to yield
His nose was gone; the point was lost,
the tracks turned right then wrong
My gun recocked but sighted blind
—all certainty had gone
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April,2019)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem