Saturday, March 9, 2013.

The Shooters.


All through your life

You see the shooters

Firing guns into the sky

You wait for something to return to earth

But nothing ever falls.

You ask your parents

Why the shooters shoot

You ask ‘What is their target?’

Your parents look away.

Your father dies

You feel the pain.

You see the shooters, once again

And once again

You ask your mother ‘Why?’

This time she weeps

And starts to die.

And when she dies

Your childhood dies.

You search and find the shooters, once again.

You climb into the chamber of the tall one’s gun

And wait your turn.

(c) Israel Horovitz 2013

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