Untitled Country Review (ISSN 2152-7903), published quarterly during 2010-2013, features poetry, book reviews, photography, and short works of non-fiction. Thank you for visiting.

Issue 7 - George Ovitt


There’s the dodging a bullet kind,
As when you swerve to miss the dog
And do—and the luck encoded in you,
Limbs properly attached, brain functioning,
Ten thousand congenital diseases dodged
For now—then there’s moral luck of the
Sort that guides you home when the weather
Gets dicey—as when you could have cheated
On your wife or taken the cash or spoken the lie
And didn’t—and why you didn’t wasn’t character
Or your good heart, since you lack it and it isn’t,
But circumstance—as when, the fatal crash looming,
Your errant mind, that flapping thing, all at once
Settles down safely—but the best luck of all
Is the one that put you here to begin with—
The prerequisite to the dogs you haven’t run over,
To the face you sometimes can bear to look at,
The luck whose grace lets you cheat or not,
The one that, with luck, brings you home at last.

--George Ovitt

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1 comment:

  1. Love the line "your errant mind, that flapping thing..." I like this poem very much.


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