Sister, I have come to understand
the world will have its way with us despite
what we might wish, or once believed. Last week
I watched our neighbors die like snakes. Gut-shot,
then hacked with hoes until their moaning ceased.
Shelton’s youngest son was one of them,
alive thirteen years. His eyes met mine,
but like his father and brothers he didn’t speak.
It was past words by then but still I thought
of all the times the five of us had shared
a hunting camp, spun lies at Allen’s Store,
Shelton Laurel
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