war poem

Calming breath.
Let it out.
One more settles the nerves.
Hold it part-way.

Two point five pounds
engages the trigger.
Control the recoil through the
eruption of noise and fire.

One twist in nine inches
sets the rotation. Out of the barrel
arcing against gravity
and gently nudged by the wind.

Piercing the barrier
to leave sound behind
silencing the chants
of blood for oil.

Twenty five hundred
feet per second
covers the distance
beyond regret and indifference.

Irretrievably, heralding death
to a target of flesh
and bone. Intent on extinguishing
the mortal flame.

One man ends, another continues on
eternally connected by a thread
that spans the chasm
between life and death.

How slender the path we tread.
No tears shed,
the soldier prepares anew
to kill again.