Two black scouts on foot
Lead up two pointers
Their handlers, mounted,
Follow
Two mounted judges
Watch the scene
“Ready, boys?”
Handlers nod, scouts let ‘em go
For an hour
Pointers race
Scouts, unseen, follow
Handlers sing to their dogs
No call of point
No dog seen pointed
But both dogs unseen
When hour ends: a judge shouts, “Pick ‘em up.”
So, for twenty minutes
Handlers and scouts
Search unseen up front
Judges hoping to hear a shout of “point”
Then senior judge
Nods to chief marshal
Who blows three toots
Signaling both dogs are out of judgment
Too bad, think judges
Two good races
But each marks his book
FNB
Two more black scouts
Lead up two more pointers
The ritual repeats
Hope remains, but birds ain’t moving…