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in the dark jungle night
by the watering hole
where the tigers walk
soft measured steps
without a crackle, a whisper,
in silent thought
the floor covered
rotting leaves and moss
sliver of moonlight
sparkles the eyes
and glints off the gun stock
the air dead,
the wind naught
stare and startle
majestic head raised, questions
will fall down dead
doubts silenced, or not
ears cocked, keen, intense
wayward leaf, apostate
banished, falls,
drawn as if,
by the silent rock
settles crisply,
next to the careful foot
time, muscles, fingers, tightened
squeeze, now! now! now!
no, wait, aim, adjust,
crackle, noooo!!!
the hunted is lost,
each with a story,
one to narrate,
one to boast.

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