All summer Paul drifted in and out of shade.
His inconstant blue was not the color of sky.

Each day the people he encountered
spoke of a new shooting in a grocery, school or church.

His patience with congress wore thin
thus exposing his anger.

He hid his anger by walking miles each day
in the distraction of stadium lights.

Then Uvalde, Texas took place
and his anger grew too large to hide.

Paul wrote emails and letters to his congress person.
He left as many as twelve phone messages a day.

He knew he wished to punch
a second amendment braggart in the face

so he avoided bars and the parts of the ballpark
that served beer and margaritas.

For the first time since university
he entered a church so he may pray with others.

He noticed their fear at his unfamiliar face.
He removed himself from their nervousness.

He removed himself to the woods
where he would listen to God in a stand of trees.

As he listened to all vectors of God’s voice entering him
he noticed three tree trunks lodged bullets.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney

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