She gave each of her sons
a doll and a toy gun.
During the day, they shot
the gun at robbers in the mountains
and at night they put
the baby to bed in the cabin.
The same fingers that pulled the trigger
tucked the sheet around the baby's face.
She gave each of us boys
a doll and a toy gun
and the finger that ran
through the doll's hair
would later find it hard
to pull the trigger of a gun.
Copyright 2007 by the Tipton Poetry Journal.
All rights remain the exclusive property of the individual poet and may not be used without their permission.