Guilt

 Guilt
A storm’s wrath had wrenched
the robin’s nest from the tree above.
Jerry and i, boys of ten or so,
stumbled upon it the next morning.
The mother robin stood her ground,
fluffing her red chest in defiance.
We two, pretenders of brave big game hunters,
executed her with a BB gun, and laughed about it.
Jerry grew up, played big-time college football,
and became a famous California detective. 
i went on to teach children our language,
and
lay bare my shame in poetry.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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