Indoor Life

Among those things my father

kept within easy reach, I remember:

a round glass ashtray, walnut pipe rack,

foam-edged beer glass on the lamp table,

boxes of red shotgun shells

under the full gun rack,

a black leather belt on a hook

near the back door,

back issues of Guns & Ammo,

American Rifleman and Outdoor Life.

I flipped through to a feature story.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose

as I read of a grizzly

that tore off a hunter’s scalp

and most of his face,

clawed his torso,

ripped his shoulder open.

The hunter lay still, played dead.

The bear buried him

under dirt and leaves,

left him alive,

to tell the story.

I slipped the magazine back

where I’d found it

and considered how I might

survive this indoor life.