The Sniper

On a roadside cafe the hunter sits,
the deep eyes skate over the bustling crowd
in search of the hunt that often outwits,
teasing the patience of the hunter abound.
From far, squinting against the hot noon sun,
on foxy feet, arrives his enemy
amidst the noise, dangerously silent,
killer watches his eluding quarry.
He uncaps a poisonous needle,
eager to end these endless stalks.
But on a roof-top the sniper waits hidden,
just a trigger away to shorten his walks.
Bullet whooshes across the noisy street,
quiets the killer and his restless feet.