the hunter

your friend loves
his guns,
he talks about them
like they are women
he is seducing.
loading the chambers
taking them
apart, the oils,
the rubs, the adjustment
of sights. how
he holds them in
his hand, stroking
the long leg
of a barrel, spinning
the chambers.
slipping in a bullet,
firing a round
then another, awaiting
the hunt
the pheasant, a deer,
something
quick to die as he
sits and hides
in a tree, or blind.