Gutted

We are the bullet catchers

Photo by Zara Walker on Unsplash

We are the bullet catchers.
The scabbard for swords.

I accept the daggers in my back,
this full shape of sky.

With wide steps, we tread
upon the grass where children play

with puppies on long leashes
and in the chaos, their legs tangle,

a nylon weave of stumble
and with squealing laugh,

call the falcons close.

© Trapper Markelz 2021

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