Friday, November 25, 2022

Quandry, Quarry, Quarrel (poem)

This post brought to you by the letter Q!

Hello and Happy Poetry Friday on this day after Thanksgiving! Be sure to visit Ruth at There is No Such Thing as a Godforsaken Town for Roundup.

This week I've got some hunting dogs for you! I, myself, have zero experience hunting irl, so for this poem, I decided to "hunt" for language, images, and meaning that would make hunting relatable for non-hunting folks like me. 

What did I find? Some great "Q" words! Thanks so much for reading.

Quandry, Quarry, Quarrel

Who could have predicted
the boat would mosey
this far from shore?

Not clutch of dogs
tense from morning's hunt

not ducks alert
amid thick nest of reeds.

perhaps distracted
by blazing maples—

let the knot slip, or
never tied it at all.

How easily we break—

all of us waiting
for the next whistle.

- Irene Latham


  1. Wow! I love this poem a bit because of the process you explained...looking for language that would make something relatable. I have you to thank? for the hours I've spent collaging cut out shapes of my state this week. They are turning into pretty cute Christmas ornaments. I'm having fun, though. Bring on the Hallmark Holiday, my box of tissues and mod podge brush are ready!

  2. I'm going to link to you -- thanks for this!

  3. This image made me laugh, and your poem put into my head some lovely thoughts around hunting dogs and the beauty of fall as experienced by hunters/dogs. Something I NEVER think about as a rule, being a non-hunter myself...I love "mosey" and "distracted" and the moment of stillness and reflection here.


Your thoughts?