Singing The Blues Poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Singing The Blues
Rating: ★2.8
Usually this guy doesn't sing the blues.
Let the rain fall in sheets
in the woods behind the cabin
Let the flies bite until blood runs
A real bitch walking the trails then
down to the North Branch
where my labrador and I hunt
the pesky will of the wisp
in the dense woods
of the Saginaw
like red-blooded braves
seeking salvation
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: seeking,woods
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8/28/2026 8:09:29 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
