Sentiment
I bend by shoulder to (he heavy gun, And snugly lean my cheek against the Wood. I feel the cold press of the trigger steel Chilling my finger, as the good steel should. Crouched in a desperate stillness by the rock The brown thing Waits—Waits while the World reels by. Motionless—motionless. Shall a moment pass? Shall it not Wait to see the brown thing die? The crashing havoc, and the bullet's song, The sudden painful jolting of the stock, A spurt of dust—a startled blur of life — The brown thing leaps to freedom from the rockf "You missed!" I let the smoking muzzle fall, And With a careless platitude prevent Uncomprehending laughter, as 1 pay My homage to the gods of sentiment. —Marjorie MoWat.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19380917.2.208.31.6
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23145, 17 September 1938, Page 5 (Supplement)
Word Count
125Sentiment New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23145, 17 September 1938, Page 5 (Supplement)
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Acknowledgements
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