Bull’s-Eye by Chris Wood

Swallows sway the power lines,
chirp and chatter as sunset descends,
shading a meadow that triangles 
and dips low between tree lines.
 
Honeysuckle curves a clearing,
perfumes the shooting range
as I load my magazine and study targets
clothes-pinned along a metal frame.
  
Lightning bugs flicker a Morse code, 
inviting mosquitos to come visit 
after a long day of hibernation.
 
My hands fist the grip,
body braces, settles in stance.
The target blurs as my eyes focus, 
laser the sights. I squeeze the trigger.
 
The chamber ejects, kicks back.
Ear plugs muffle the crack echoing 
the valley as the bullet centers 
the steel gray disc.

Chris Wood is an award-winning poet with her work appearing in several publications, including Salvation South and Poetry Quarterly, Her work also appears in several anthologies including "Bayou, Blues, and Red Clay: Poetry Anthology (2024)." Learn more at: https://chriswoodwriter.com/