[the Writing of Kuypers][JanetKuypers.com][Bio][Poems][Prose]
onto the patio, the
away from the ravine.
in a sling. He had
and he looked out
over his shoulder.
along the edge of the
propped his gun
through the sight and
guns, he seldom
house, aiming at the
good arm. And then
into a nearby hole.
People wonder why
with two good arms.
my father,
we sat in our
shooting an animal
dining room, looking out
the sliding glass doors
expanse of concrete that
led to the pool, fenced
Father had a dislocated
shoulder, his arm was
a friend’s shotgun, some
sort of instrument
the window, sister and I
behind him, looking
And then he saw a small
squirrel, walking
patio, and father opened the
sliding glass doors
over his dislocated shoulder,
tried to look
keep the gun balanced. He
usually didn’t use
borrowed them. And here he
stood, in his own
animal at the edge of our
property, with one
he shot. We all looked; the
animal, hit, stumbled
He hit the animal, despite all
his trouble, all his pain.
he shot the animal. I wonder
how. Could I do it, even
Could I see through the sight,
could I aim well, strike.
Copyright Janet Kuypers.
All rights reserved. No material
may be reprinted without express permission.
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(1:57) 06/15/07, at Buffalo Bill’s Grave at Lookout Mountain in Golden, CO Or watch the YouTube video below: |