The Summer Series: we who hunted once

Words by Bronte Coates

Published on January 20, 2012

with polished shoulders
fierce glazed faces
we shake fruits from
crooked trees above

fingers peeling away
faded skin
teeth tearing away
bitter flesh
our eyes open wide

we dig a hole in the corner.
we return to the world.

later we remember
It was a child’s game.

but we don’t forget the
moment of stillness
where we stared, and the juice

the stains remaining on the stone