He looks over the rooftop
Lying in wait
Rifle in hand, he sweeps the ground
The enemy is close
But how close?
Movement from the ground excites him
An enemy car, stopping for an old woman
The woman points straight at him
The enemy looks in the direction
He shoots, both the gunman and the woman
Aims, shoots, hits
Down they drop, like sacks of rice
A shot rings out from behind
He's been hit, too
But not fatal
No pain, only blood
He cleans his own wound
And looks out among the rooftops
Movement again, only he knows
He places his cap on his rifle
Scoots it up so only it is visible
Shots ring out again, down goes the cap
He flings his arm out, as if dead
Slides it back down, then grabs a revolver
Aims, shoots, hits
Down goes the enemy sniper
Pride swells inside him
He decides to assess the damage
Down he goes, to the corpse in the gutter
Turns the body over, looks down
Down at his own brother
Kendra Sliger
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/aims-shoots-hits/
