The Thrill of the Hunt
It is a quiet room
Not designed for
But morphed into
A place of reflection.
Too old to hunt
I am left with my “trophies”
Dust covered mementos
Of an eager youth
Embracing the inherent danger
Facing the unknown
Daring to stare down the herd
Single out the prize
and wait
for the perfect moment
to click
send to cart.
Thus, I now sit
In my Amazon Trophy Room
Surrounded by…..
John G. Lawless
©12/14/2022
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2022
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