Sonnet 7 For Debbie's Crown of Sonnets
I must build a shelter, to fight off the cold.
A rugged fortress lest poachers return –
My bloody blazer, now, filthy fivefold!
I am shivering cold; fire won’t burn.
I stealthily creep seeking higher ground.
With every fear a worn mind can churn,
I crawl beneath some trees; more wood is found.
Two bundles, brushwood: birch twigs, logs, to burn.
I build a warm blaze upon the bare earth.
Then, cook up some vittles: vermin and fern.
While feeding my hunger, I loosen my girth.
Then, see a mineshaft; my hope starts to yearn.
Distantly hidden, completely unmanned.
Through the north woods I come, my bow in hand.
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment