Sighted Blind
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)
Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment