Ammon Wrigley - "A Driving Shot in a Driving Wind"

The following is a transcription of a work by Saddleworth poet Ammon Wrigley (1861-1946).

A Driving Shot in a Driving Wind

A driving shot in a driving wind,
And a rain of whistling lead!
A whirling flight from a heathery height,
To redden the moorgrass — dead;
Wind and wing o’er the waving ling,
And wings of death behind,
The fowler’s test, and he loveth best
A shot in a driving wind.
A driving shot in a driving wind,
A plunge into reeling space!
A cleaving leap o’er the ravines deep—
To lose in a fateful race;
A flying death o’er the golden “Yeth,”
High in the August skies!
A sporting death, in the gun’s hot breath—
The lord of the moorland dies.

Ammon Wrigley - "A Driving Shot in a Driving Wind"

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Poetry
This page was last modified on 14 August 2018 and has been edited by Dave Pattern.

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