It was hot out. The spine a quiver.
I did not know what it was storing,
only that the deer I passed looked afraid.
They shouldn't have, though, I stored
the arrows in my back and I couldn’t keep up
anyway. Their eyes were soft. They ran—
I want to pull the arrows out of my spine
until they lose their bite. I want to strip
the wood until it grows back into trees,
into leaves, into something the deer
can live off of. Hunt yourself
and you can never go hungry. There’s nothing
to be afraid of losing.
Ezra Lebovitz is an avid supporter of American folklore and honeybees. His work has been recognized by NJCTE, Scholastic Art and Writing, and John Hopkins, and appears or is forthcoming in decomP, Polyphony HS, and YA Review Network.