At Age Eight
Early morning pink
filtered through the forest canopy
while I aimed for stealth
enough to kill.
With every twig snapped
and leaf crushed
chill air bored through my bones.
My brother walked ahead
with the rifle and a quiet tread.
Tree limbs quivered
as chattering squirrels
ran unseen.
Then a sharp report and echo.
A small form dropped
through foliage
to the ground.
Red glistened on a green leaf.
I stood transfixed
by sightless, black bead eyes,
a body slipped into a canvas bag.
We moved on,
the whole world grown still
except my clodding feet.
I never learned to disappear.
At Age Eight
Early morning pink
filtered through the forest canopy
while I aimed for stealth
enough to kill.
With every twig snapped
and leaf crushed
chill air bored through my bones.
My brother walked ahead
with the rifle and a quiet tread.
Tree limbs quivered
as chattering squirrels
ran unseen.
Then a sharp report and echo.
A small form dropped
through foliage
to the ground.
Red glistened on a green leaf.
I stood transfixed
by sightless, black bead eyes,
a body slipped into a canvas bag.
We moved on,
the whole world grown still
except my clodding feet.
I never learned to disappear.