Hard Boiled

The cross, it’s 2 arms in defiance of the late afternoon sun.
It’s shadow separating Hero from Foe,
Hero on one knee, Foe on his back.

The cross their only witness.

Revolver raised. Hero like a conductor poised,
Holding his stomach with one hand, revolver in the other.
Both stood at their ends of the shadow, Hero narrowed his eyes.

The cross their only witness.

Foe raised his Glock.
The music stopped the dance was ending.
Hero pulled the trigger.

The cross their only witness.

The empty revolver was a crescendo to the symphony only moment before.
To the tune of the echo, Hero lowered his eyes. Foe pulled the trigger.
Startled birds flew from the roof of the church.

The cross their only witness.

(This was written during my freshman year of college. I posted it just to be able to have something to look back on. I never did say I was a poet!)