FALL/ WINTER 2013

next



Adam Fisher

MY LIFE WITH GUNS

My brother took me
shooting, I hit
the target, but missed
the bullseye.

My brother took me hunting.
I saw a rabbit
but couldn’t shoot.

I used my BB gun
to shoot a squirrel
then wanted to find it
to clean its wound.
 
My brother stuffed paper
in the barrel of a civil war rifle,
shot it in the back yard—
fire flamed from  the barrel.
Our neighbor ran out
to complain. We laughed.
 
I was in a shooting contest at camp
where my bother was a counselor.
My opponent put up his own target;
I complained and won the trophy.
 
One summer I stayed
with my brother at college.
Late one night there was a knock
on the door. He
took a pistol out of the drawer,
motioned for me to stand back
and called, “Come in.”
A good friend entered.
 I was sitting on my brother’s bed
when he picked up his pistol
to eject the bullets.
One went off
and missed my leg
by an inch.


back to top

 

 


send comments to info@poetrybay.com

first electronic copyright 2000 poetrybay. 
all rights revert to author

 

 

Poetrybay seeks fine poetry, reviews, commentary and essays without restriction in form or content, and reserves first electronic copyright to all work published. All rights to published work revert to the author following publication. All Email submissions should be in body of email text.

To submit poems write to:

PO Box 114 
Northport NY 11768
or email us at 
info@poetrybay.com

send comments to info@poetrybay.com

first electronic copyright 2004 poetrybay. 
all rights revert to authors

website comments to dpb@islandguide.com