Time

He reckoned she was about seventeen
Tight young breasts fitted snugly into a tight young body
She stripped naked as the sea gently stroked the shore 
He looked past her to the rocks five hundred metres to the left
That's where he would be
Perfect position for the perfect shot
She saw he was engrossed in her 
Old enough to be her father 
Wonder if he's getting excited 
She would be the first to be shot
Life ended before it begun 
He would have a chance 
Silhouetted between the rocks
It would be a waiting game now
She glanced up to see if he was still watching her, he was
A nice feeling ran through her 
He'd played this game many times before 
Lasting hours, sometimes days 
Death the ultimate price, always death 
She didn't understand 
She was willing him to her, letting him take what she was gladly giving 
He tried to recall his own youth, nothing came
He was sure a naked young girl would be every boys dream 
Now he just wanted a woman to hold tight
Just to be there 
He glanced past her one more time
Slowly retreating using the rocks as a shield
The traffic began to build up as he reached the sanctuary he called home.

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

the intrigue and suspense is palpable...glad she made it out alive this one more time ... what a voyeur ... ready to cross a dark and no going back line of murder ... well said ... i could see the whole thing play out ... and as he pulls up to his home, his secret life intact ..he goes in empty and deceiving ... barleygirl said this poem inspired her ... so of course i had to come and read ;)
E.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very interesting story my friend. I have three daughters and a father's fear. They grow-up too quickly. Woman learn young. They can tempt their world with their beauty if the want. The story line in the poem. Realistic. Thank you Paul for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Paul Bell]

Must admit, wouldn't want to have daughters. Sons bad enough.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are right. I have three grandsons. They are wild an loco already.

[Island Hippy]

Aloha Paul, I don't know who's watching who, but I've read this 3 times now and the more I read it the more it feels like a soldier in the trenches. It feels a little like the 'red dress' poem. Even if I'm way off I enjoyed the intrigue of this. Izzy

[Paul Bell]

You're right in a way. The soldier is still fighting his war.

[Lydia Shutter]

A voyeur.....but who is enjoying this more the one being watched or the one watching? Perhaps she brings back pleasant memories to him, but he realizes he is past all that. Very interesting perspective, Paul. Lydi**

[Paul Bell]

I can see how you went in that direction. Ex soldier still fighting his war.

[barleygirl]

This one really reveals the true twisted nature of your deepest ponderings, my friend. I would love to write something that dances so enticingly between macabre & merely twisted, the way this does. It's almost creepy & yet a little bit exciting, which makes the reader feel like a pervert. I don't know how you come up with these things, but I wish my mind could stretch hither & yon! *heh! heh! heh!*

[Paul Bell]

Margie stop perverting, that's my job. Actually we should do a collab on perverting. We'll put justice in to confuse the readers.

[barleygirl]

OK, here's why your poem inspired me to write my latest posting in the dark of night under the full moon . . . it's the way you present a typically scorned behavior in such a way that the reader is sympathetic to it, even if it feels a little twisted along the way. Not that I achieved such a balance, becuz your style is so much more nuanced (that's the part I can't emulate . . . yet).

[Paul Bell]

You're on it Margie. I get a robot to write my stuff.
Though i had to sack it when it starting following into the bars, and chatting up women better than me. lol

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Is he The Spy Who Came in from the Cold? Is it shell-shock? Or lovers playing a dangerous game....the Noir of it-"Death the ultimate price, always death". So foreboding, chilling and dark. Awsomely the stuff of nightmares!

[Paul Bell]

Mainly shell shock. Still living the war.

[The Iron Horseman]

Now I'm intrigued! Who is he? An assassin? A voyeur? A photographer? You? Or is this just a metaphor for aging, a process we all hate? Help me out here, Paul. I'm fascinated! :D

[Paul Bell]

It was an ex soldier still fighting his battles. Constantly on guard against sniper fire.

[The Iron Horseman]

Sad, and not a good way to live, but we all have pasts that haunt us!

[Laura Lynn Close]

traffic is a surprising element in the last, I saw a more ancient world without modern elements at first

[Paul Bell]

Nothing so ancient Laura. Just a soldier fighting his demons.