It’s hard to work out what was my mind
Looking though glass at that target of mine
A dream complete with wind in my face.
The picture still fresh but the target is grey
Was that my way to block out the face ???
I remember the maths behind all the shots
The smell of the turf, and the pain in my back
The cramp of too long sat still in that hide.
The quiet voice beside me, her eyes scanning wide
Her overwatch trusted with all of our lives
I remember the thump and the fall of that form
As I followed the shot with its curious swirl.
Yet I can’t see the face of the one that fell
But I still hear the sound of the casing on stone
That and the sigh from that voice by my ear.
Is this the end of seeing a face?
A mellowing view of my time in that place
I sit here and hurt but not from my legs
As often before, the confusion my pain.
Still it’s over for now, and off back to bed I go.