Tonight's Poet Corner: Caress the Nose

Caress the Nose
by Belinda Roddie

The sharpshooter kisses the
wet, seeking snout
of his rifle barrel - two pecks,
one lick, muscle against metal.
It's done some marvelous work
today, sending bundles of feathers
crashing onto the dry grass
and instantly molting in
premature decay. When he
stoops to retrieve the meal,
his fingers constantly caress the
nose - that slender, flaring nostril
rimmed with dark powder,
everything there but the red-rimmed eyes.

This is the hunter and his lover.
They share work together. They share
meals together. And most of the time,
in the thick of a stifling August
heat wave, they share
a bed together, one smiling,
the other snoring.