An Ode to ‘The Shooter’ By Don A Smith
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An Ode to ‘The Shooter’
By Don A Smith
Submitted by the author - 22 Dec 2004

Hello! Blunderbuss man, blasting birds today?

Sound of cannon! I do hear?

Two barrels, that is clear.

Surely, he could not miss a deer.

The bird is dead, full of lead; hits the ground without its head.

Hand reared to die in this cruel fashion,

just to please the shooter’s passion.

This bird of beauty is dead and gone.

The shooter has had his day of fun.

The hounds collect the blooded creature,

This does not paint a Christian picture.

To their masters the hounds do run.

Oh! What pleasure? Oh! What fun.

A poem by Don A Smith 1998

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