A day of mixed blessings

Hunting season opens
its jaws, and nature screams
in anguish.

In the grass a baby plays
with blades of grass, laughter
in tiny scuttling feet.

Heron flies, skimming treetops,
neck bent, hoarse-voiced, loud
as the crack of gunfire.

He’s old, the dog,
says nose hello to baby,
but the shrieks of joy fall on deaf ears.

Cat, dog, baby, lie on sun-dapples
beneath the trees; we listen
to the sounds that should not be.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

25 thoughts on “A day of mixed blessings”

    1. I am thanks 🙂 It was lovely to have visitors, for the weather to be glorious and for baby to be big enough now to meet her four-legged uncle and aunties 🙂 Shame about the f*cking hunters, but every year a few more shoot get shot by their friends or just die of unhealthy old age.

    1. Yes, they do cast a blight, but as they seem to have killed most of the animals they’re allowed to hunt, they packed up early.
      Improvement with the eye has stopped. I’m almost at the end of the treatment so keep your fingers crossed for me it clears by Wednesday otherwise it’s the hospital.

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