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I have been here before,
countless times.
Not at this ungodly hour
of 430. I follow a well worn
game trail that runs along the back
side of my little woodlot.
Although I carry an electric torch,
I will not use it
in fear of making my presence known.
I will be guided by illumination of the moon.
I’m heading toward the slow moving
shallow creek that runs
from the lush bean field
to the impenetrable swamp at its end.
I smile as I silently make my way through
but in reality the creatures of the night
heard me the moment
I stepped into their backyard.
I have released
a carbon graphite projectile
at one of the four gray ghosts
that magically appeared.
My drawback and release
was automatic from hours of practice.
There was no way to practice controlling
my racing heart nor the weakness
in the knees,
my launch was true.
I stand over a beautiful gray ghost
with pride and joy for my accomplishment
and shed a tear of sorrow
for the life I have taken.
-Rigo Vargas
