#2,485 Woodsman

He was a man in green –
dressed –
to be unseen –
a slip
into submergences in verdant
heaps of fern-deep slopes –
shades of boscage & shoots &
thickets he hunted [no snaps –
or cracks –
just brisk reloads] –
whiff of rubs of gun oils hung
as he pressed cheek-to-cheek
under his aim
[balancing acts
of barrel & body] –
a high wire
exhaling & a timed squeezing
to loosen his primed hammer
on buffed brass –
then it kicks
& reverberates in his bones &
hits him each time
[all alone]