The Last Hunt

The last time I went deer hunting
I almost killed a man.

I almost killed him
because he almost killed me.

In the middle of a meadow
on a foggy Autumn morning
I was taking a piss.

Searching for a deer at the same time.
Multitasking.

When I shook it off and turned
I saw the rifle barrel
pointed directly between my eyes.
No more than fifty yards away.

"What the fuck are you doing!"
I yelled pulling my rifle up
towards the man.

The man stared.
Looked up at me from his sights
and lowered his rifle.

My finger squeezed.
Two pounds
on a three pound trigger.
Cross hairs on his forehead.

I envisioned what a two hundred grain bullet
fired from a three thirty eight magnum would do
to the human body.

I let off the trigger.
and the man walked away
with a stupid look on his face.

A kind of contemplative stare
one that said. " I thought that was a deer."

I walked away trembling
pissed off because
I wanted to pull the trigger,
but didn't.