A poem that halts you as you gasp at its perfection. Even its 2-lined structure is the perfect visual delivery for the message. What an exceptional talent. How grateful we are to have been able to read it. Excellent work, Mr. Westheimer. Truly exceptional.
This poem feels like someone quietly admitting how violence never really leaves the places it touches. The idea of a bullet being “lost” hits hard, because the poem shows exactly where it ends up in fear, in kids who won’t go upstairs alone, in the way people talk when they forget someone died. What struck me most was how ordinary the images are: a grandson, a classmate, a YouTube comment. It makes the damage feel close, not abstract. The “two Americas” inside a bullet is a line that stays with you long after reading. There’s a tired sadness in the voice, like someone who’s seen this happen too many times. And the contrast between real people hurting and officials brushing it off is honestly chilling. By the end, you’re left with this heavy sense that nothing about this is accidental the fragments keep finding new places to lodge themselves. It’s a quiet poem, but it leaves a mark.
I’m selfishly grateful so many poets and prose writers are writing about these horrific events so I don’t have to. And very few poets write them as well as Dick does. Thanks for sharing this one :)
A poem that halts you as you gasp at its perfection. Even its 2-lined structure is the perfect visual delivery for the message. What an exceptional talent. How grateful we are to have been able to read it. Excellent work, Mr. Westheimer. Truly exceptional.
Thanks so much for your supportive words, Opal.
This poem feels like someone quietly admitting how violence never really leaves the places it touches. The idea of a bullet being “lost” hits hard, because the poem shows exactly where it ends up in fear, in kids who won’t go upstairs alone, in the way people talk when they forget someone died. What struck me most was how ordinary the images are: a grandson, a classmate, a YouTube comment. It makes the damage feel close, not abstract. The “two Americas” inside a bullet is a line that stays with you long after reading. There’s a tired sadness in the voice, like someone who’s seen this happen too many times. And the contrast between real people hurting and officials brushing it off is honestly chilling. By the end, you’re left with this heavy sense that nothing about this is accidental the fragments keep finding new places to lodge themselves. It’s a quiet poem, but it leaves a mark.
What a thoughtful and generous reading and discussion. Thanks for digging in and lending additional reflections to the poem (and circumstances).
I’m selfishly grateful so many poets and prose writers are writing about these horrific events so I don’t have to. And very few poets write them as well as Dick does. Thanks for sharing this one :)
Thanks so much, T. Wonderful to have your support and help in poetry world.
I love this poem, yes heartbreaking. Our country needs this poem. Thank you Dick Westheimer for writing it and ONLY POEMS for publishing
Thanks so much, Tara. great to be in poetry community with you, for sure.
This is wonderful, and so heartbreaking. Thank you so much for writing.
Thanks so much, Francesca.
Such weight woven into these collected bullets. Thank you for sharing Dick’s poem with us all.
Thanks, Kaylen. We're lucky to have ONLY POEMS curating our poems and sharing them with the world
Wonderful ❤️
What great writing this is. Thank you for this poem. Like ad songs , it says so much.
Thank you for this writing. There are times when only poetry can form the words that truly convey the depth of our rage and grief
Thanks so much, Amberhawk.
Incredible poem.
Thanks, Melissa. I am fortunate to be in poetry community with you.
Great poem.
Terrific poem with that premise!
Dick Westheimer has done it again. Another bullet found. Our hearts are filling up with them.
So well put, @Emma. Appreciate your kind words, also.