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The Game
February 1, 2012
I hadn’t seen him pull the trigger,
but I saw the young pig fall
and the rest sprint away
as its mother lagged behind
nudging its pierced neck
covering herself in its blood.
I wondered if she was crying
as I was
as she glanced up and noticed everyone gone.
Realizing there was nothing to be done,
she scampered into the brush—
I knew it wasn’t a game to her.
My brother cocked his head back,
Thumb turned up, grinning
waiting for my praise.
But he saw my reddened eyes
and declared, “I told you girls shouldn’t hunt.”
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