I think my husband
is watching reruns
of Gunsmoke on TV.
But the office is empty.
I hear pop, pop, pop
as I open the door
and my husband shows up
after dodging bullets on the roof
and grabs an orange vest
and a camera and creeps past cactus,
snapping photos of the utility
truck parked in our driveway
and the man in camouflage
firing bullets from a rifle in one hand,
pistol in the other, as he leans
against a No Shooting Sign.
Fish and Game arrest the shooter
as he drives home in the truck
emblazoned with his name
and cell phone number
after my husband faxes
them the photographs.
The judge gives the shooter
a year in jail and a $1,000 fine.
But that is no consolation
to the mate of the missing
coyote who got a death sentence
for drinking water at our pond.
We mourn with her as we listen
to her howling her heart
out as she stands vigil
over the body night after night.
Sharon Waller Knutson is a retired journalist who lives in Arizona. She has published eleven poetry books, including My Grandmother Smokes Chesterfields (Flutter Press 2014), What the Clairvoyant Doesn’t Say (Kelsay Books 2021), Trials & Tribulations of Sports Bob (Kelsay Books 2021), Survivors, Saints and Sinners (Cyberwit 2022), Kiddos & Mamas Do the Darndest Things (Cyberwit 2022), The Vultures are Circling (Cyberwit 2023), and The Leading Ladies in My Life (Cyberwit 2023.) Sharon's twelfth collection, My Grandfather is a Cowboy, is also forthcoming from Cyberwit in January of 2024. Her work has appeared in more than 50 different journals and she is the editor of Storyteller Poetry Journal, which is an online publication dedicated to promoting narrative poetry.
This is so beautiful and sad, Sharon.
ReplyDeletePowerful poem!!
ReplyDeleteLove this poem, so vivid the storytelling. The ending really hits you hard.
ReplyDeleteExcellent poem - so scary and sad.
ReplyDelete