Vox Populi

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Doug Anderson: Letter

Deer hunters
half whose energy
is spent
not shooting one another
in these little scraps
of east coast woods
I see you going out
before dawn
in your camo
even the little boy
you’ve got with you
and I have to say
I won’t touch
the stuff
have you ever seen
a corpsman
cut the blood black camo
off a shattered leg?

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This entry was posted on November 14, 2014 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , .

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