Colorblind by Megan Windom
over the mountains
the Sun arose
the morning air crisp
in the fall of Autumn
wandering all the way
taking the long school route
to creep through the woods
two-seventy in hand
the smoothly finished wood
and blued metal
hanging more down than up
though my hands were ready
to pull it in close
tight against my shoulder
like my father taught me
to gently close my hand
as soft as my breath
just like I taught my sons
it was immediate
when I saw the antlers
leading his head past trees
like a soft caress
I closed my right hand
the world stopped with my shot
looking through the trees
I saw nothing
red and green look like brown
it was time to go
to school where I’d get Ray
so he could track it down
No comments:
Post a Comment