[Mister Saint]: 79.Poetry.Merciful Thief

"Merciful Thief"

Over a ridge grown with green sprouting leaf
where a shadow is moving, afraid, lonely thief,
Above flies the falcon, the shrill hunter's wail,
Behind run the hounds, how they bark, how they bay.

"There's only one man", tempts the voice in his mind,
"there's only one target that no one will find."
His hand, how it trembles, palms sweat, fingers ache,
"No," is his answer, "no life will I take."

So onward he runs through the thicket and thorn,
The purse at his side, like him, weary and worn.
He knows that to stop is to fight or to die,
and lose what he took on this cold autumn night.

In his hand gleams a pistol, heavy and strong,
where might has made right it has never been wrong.
Only one bullet, one thirty-eight round,
One bullet to keep his from sleep in the ground.

At the crest of the ridge the brave thief turns about,
And the hounds and the falcon let loose their shout.
The hunter's in sight with his rifle held high...
Both aim, and both fire, and both of them cry.

Earthward they tumble, the robber, the robbed,
Both of them wounded, both of them shot,
"Now see for my mercy, just what I've gained,"
the thief, now helpless, can only complain.

The hunter laughed loudly, just shaking his head,
and the thief had to ask, "what was funny I said?"
"You're mercy that shot me, is that what you meant?
I hope that the mercy you mentioned is spent."

The thief's eyebrow lifts and his head turns aside.
"If it weren't for my mercy then you would have died.
I aimed for the leg so's to spare you today,
when I could've just killed you and gotten away."

"I think you're mistaken, unscruplous knave,
that you've nothing to gain from the mercy you gave.
You took out my leg, is that what you said?
If I had been standing I'd have blown off your head."

The thief stopped to ponder this ironic thought
until under the ocean the red sun had dropped.
The conclusion he came to was no more than this:
If you aim for the leg, then you'd better not miss.