Michael Lushington

SHOTGUN SHELL

Poem,

ML logo with green background
Photo by Michael Lushington

Once we found a shotgun shell

Still filled with gunpowder

We were curious

What destruction we could bring on,

So we lit it.

Flash,

Singed hair and eyebrows

Arm and hand hair tightly curled

Blown away in the wind.

The smell of burnt things

Without warning or apprehension

We had stumbled on a secret

We could not share with anyone

How to fix this?

So they wouldn’t know

Put it all back before anyone

Could find out

Panic with one thought

“What happened to you?”

“Nothing”

Secrets we hold onto

Not knowing an outcome

Or what will be thought

Mistrusting mercy

And our better nature.