the bachelor in the cornfield

is bred to stalk prey

 

crystalline snow falls on the barrel of his gun

the clean metal

cold before firing

 

he is alone with his reflection

upon the bitter water

of a lifeless pond

 

no one else can see what the bachelor creates

in the middle of nowhere

 

no one else will know what the bachelor did

when he entered the clearing

 

he is quiet in his camouflage complex

his footsteps measure

the distance to Chance, Fortune and back