SNOW HUNT

for AA

I realised the pheasant tracks were crazier

than how I'd stepped. They riduculed the snow

with flight attempts and panic. My husband

and I walked with crooked arms, shotguns

slung over our elpits like footballer's wives

did handbags. We had banned mobile phones.

Somehow a shot has sprung me; see my fleck

upon the virginal and the dead carcass.