Treasure Island

Waldemar Ens


Pellet Gun


Leans in the corner of the garage
hard unyielding
like a stone in your sandal
brown wooden varnish
black narrow barrel
I see it and my mind synapses back to backyard
of adolescence
shooting rusty cans
the mild kick in the shoulder
walking into garden
hand off the trigger
barrel pointed downwards
bird in branch above presents
a live target
taking aim through vee sight
trigger squeeze of death
robin falls to ground
picking it up
blood on my hands
red breast still
gun lying on black ground

Submitted: Thursday, October 10, 2013
Edited: Friday, October 11, 2013
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