Veiled by the vegetation
a ghillie suit conceals his presence
his thumb runs along
the ribbed bone handle
of his hand-honed knife
with an edge so sharp
it could simply peel steel or skin

The warm water from the lake at his back
emits a soundless steady steam
a fog to shroud the water’s edge
inhibiting his and any
surrounding forest sounds
on this cool cruel July morning

A steep bank rises high before him
thick with wood and scrub
to entomb anyone or anything
which makes for any escape
like sitting at the tip of a triangle
the well upheld trail
falls away to his left and right

Fatal eyes intent and frozen
as though staring into a flame
stare down the barrel of the path
the huge hushed sentinel trees
static in the early morning sun
their dusty leaves dapple
the morning dew and await
the one chained to a fatal fate

At once a lone loping form
emerges from the distant mist
and the unfailing fixation
of her morning run
begets a sin-filled grin
upon the killer’s face

05/25/2013

Author's Note: Inspired by Neil Young's "Down By the River".

Posted on 05/25/2013
Copyright © 2024 Tony Whitaker