that wisdom connects me to
the bullet’s flight – an arc of
covenant inscribed by gravity
where all thought falls short
of escape velocity
we were sired in the same
trajectory that brought us
here – our wills bent to the
Earth’s curvature and the
breast of its sustenance
there is no leaving without
shame but those sacrificed in
the name of its prophecy cry
in awe of the bullet’s flight
and it’s dying return
© 22 August 2008, I. D. Carswell
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