Trying hard to not see
The mess he’s begun
Cleaning, viewing and petting            His guns…

They sit on the floor
They sit on the bed
They sit on the counter
They are inside of his head

Thinking about hunting
Is today’s game…
As he polishes the wood
Having nothing to do with the aim

He loves the stock’s wood
Engravings on the metal
Not really interested in
How well they might shoot

It’s all in appearance
I’ve watched him hunt
I know he’s more worried
About a nick or scratch
The reason his aim seldom scores

He saw many pheasants
On his last hunting trip
As he hunted protecting the stock      Not one bird was hit…