The bullet lodged in his rib missing him For he was his heart and it was safe That from which she was made saved their love It had been a ricochet from a wayward gun To the tree of knowledge to his chest An absurdity of physics and mathematics He took it as a sign from above and vowed Not to waste another day behind a fig leaf And he climbed the temple of her porch Prepared to confess all that he held inside Seeing no blood smeared on the door He knocked and waited as a saint When there was no answer again he knocked When there was no answer he stood still Maybe she was just getting out of the shower Whensoever she answered he could not know It was now up to that beyond his control Fate for men and beasts is just the same
Adam Van Winkle was born and raised in Texoma and currently resides with his wife and two sons in South Carolina. In addition to publishing his short fiction, poetry and creative nonfiction online and in print at places like Pithead Chapel, Cheap Pop!, BULL Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, Roi Faineant, The Gorko Gazette and Red Dirt Forum, he has published several novels and plays with Red Dirt Press, Cowboy Jamboree Press, and Leftover Books. He is the founder and editor of Cowboy Jamboree Press and Magazine. Van Winkle is named for the oldest Cartwright son on Bonanza. Find him and his publications online at www.adamvanwinkle.com and @gritvanwinkle.