Shine

Dad walks in, steps heavy

with thunder and slow breath,

walks to thirty aught and turns,

wordless and solemn

to his own version of hell

gate. Rain falls to no

ground but soul’s depth.

Outside, Shiner no

longer stands. Mange creeps

moss-like along

an ancient face. Gun cocks

with deep click

and release. He has seen

this gun kill a hundred

times before. Only now

he licks the chamber’s end.

Waiting…