Kill Trap
I stepped in a kill trap today. The bruise is swollen with my blood.The Fall creeps into Minnesota during the middle of September. I started by dying the traps in boiled oak leaves, and setting becomes a daily activity. The traps have been laid out to rust long before their dying. Every swamp and popple forest is filled with potential places to set. My hands ache from the cold steel, but the warm, fleeting breezy days offer some relief. The bridge is out, and I coat my hands in a thin sheen of grease to make one more set.
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