
we know it was set
years ago
when seclusion was in order
and getaway a go;
a bent neck,
plumage gleaming,
reflecting kaleidoscopic light;
perfect
yet slightly ruffled
from an arduous flight south;
getting away from it all;
over night;
a dot encased in cyan
light;
then easy prey—
scoped;
scooped in one swift swoop.
all game are unaware when played;
once acquired they are placed,
smack-dab at the center of a sight;
a device
exquisitely designed for long-ranged strike;
in complete silence
except for the song of a wafting draft
unsuspecting souls are shot
clean through the heart.
a sniper
is acutely aware of these simple facts;
a target
once marked is a sitting duck,
her only allies
are elements:
wind,
glare,
reflected light,
and simple dumb luck.
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