The Poetry of
Jack Scott

Delicate Wingfoot

Delicate Wingfoot,
you flit to and fro,
but never go.
You plot your race,
but never sweat.

You fly without foresight
and never see the hurdles.
You flee without hindsight
and never know
what’s nipping at your heels.

Delicate Wingfoot,
delicate mind,
genetically you’re a delicate kind.
Your loss is programmed
and you’re left behind.

You want and want and never get.
You’ll never get down on bended knee
to pray for what you’d like to be.
Accident will be your glory
as you default into your victory .


287®Copyright 1972 Jack Scott. All rights reserved.