Sleet Storm — By Adam Jameson

We’d been out in the storm for an hour.

I’d noticed him shivering a time or two.
When I asked if he wanted to go home,

all I got was a headshake no.

I didn’t tell him I was freezing my ass off too.
We sat there in the blind, not saying a word.

Sleet was collecting on the decoys

and the brim of my hat.
Just before shooting hours were over

I saw 2 drakes and a hen coming hard.
Take’em, I whispered.
Cole dropped the 2 drakes.

I hadn’t even raised my gun.
Why didn’t you shoot, Dad?
I started to tell him about being

middle-aged, not being able

to see so good and slower reflexes.

Instead, I wiped the sleet off my face

and headed for the kayak

to pick up his birds.

~ Adam Jameson

Adam Jameson was born and raised in Pittsburg Kansas. He is 1995 graduate of Pittsburg State University with a BA in History. He has a varied job history but has spent the last 10 years with Westar Energy as a meter reader and now an Estimator. His work has appeared in Harp, The Little Balkans Review, To the Stars Through Difficulty and Ghost Sign, which was named a Kansas Notable Book. He was recently featured on Garrison Keillor’s The Writers Almanac. His poetry collection #9 to Sallisaw was published by The Little Balkans Press. He’s also spent the last 30 years performing with White Buffalo Poetry and Blues. He lives in rural Pittsburg with his wife Mer, son Cole and a Shi Tzu named Scooter.

Guest Editor Al Ortolani’s poetry has appeared in journals such as Rattle, Prairie Schooner, and the Chiron Review. He is the recent recipient of the Rattle Chapbook Award for 2019. Ortolani is the Manuscript Editor for Woodley Press in Topeka, Kansas.


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