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OLD HUNTER'S RANDOM THOUGHT

What will happen to my hunting clothes
when the paths no longer feel my tread?
They're raggedy and offend the nose;
will they be tossed into some shed?

They're little more than camo patches,
hard to tell where each one ends.
All rendered by barbwire and thorn patches.
Too tattered to be doffed off to friends.

Will Susan's tears dampen the things
if she's still here to go through them?
I'd spare her what such decisions bring
about those rags faded and dim.

Why do I worry? I'll be gone
and hunting on that other path.
Ain't it strange what old minds can dwell on:
the flotsam of life's aftermath.......

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

The hunter is soliloquizing, with rhetorical questions to himself. He is still unsure or what might be the fate of his hunting clothes if peradventure he dies.

The poem unmasked the reality of life death. Like this line reads:

'What will happen to my hunting clothes
when the paths no longer feel my tread?"

This line portrays his sudden absence or long vacation especially when he would no longer have time again to continue his hunting game.

He made mention of Susan which likely was his wife to look after those regalia for hunting. He foresaw the decaying of his hunting clothes as eyes saw if someone come across it.

The poet last line was a strong one: the flotsam of life's aftermath...

I do share in your thought. Good craft Scribbler!

"By virtue of creativity, my literary genre is poetry".

~Jackweb

Thank you for the read and kind words

author comment

This one crushed me, I have no critiques to offer today just dropped in to have a read and had my heart pulled out. These are thoughts we all have and not always when we are getting old. How is Susan and the kids and grandkids? I hope they're all well. Well I am finding my words again. I think after Jess and Ian and Steven passed I was just so broken I still miss them all. As I know y'all do to. Well like the old saying goes I'm back. And yes I posted. There is a little surprise there for you and Gee. Hugs x

Much love and hugs Jayne xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

We are all doing well. And yes we here at neo have lost too many stalwarts haven't we? Dom you know Judy is gone too? I'll check your poem out soon

author comment

Judy was a tough one for me. We spoke right up to within a couple of weeks of her death. She was so gracious and kind never wanting to worry any of us I was absolutely stunned and stocked when she died.. she never complained, always threw it off when I'd ask how the pain was. I still have our conversations I miss her so much.

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

I didn't even know she was sick until she was gone. nobody ever tells me anything. for while i though even knowing me was dangerous........

author comment

She had cancer twice if memory serves me. She did ask for me to not say anything and I honoured her request for privacy. She a very special woman as you know she was a published author but she also had some of her work translated into other languages not sure which ones I'd have to check. She was a humble woman. Loved her very much.

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

scratcher to improve my meter. But more important I think of her as a friend

author comment
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