Marsh (an acrostic poem)

 

Moss draped trees swung in the humid breeze 

As Roger held his shotgun up to his shoulder 

Ready to pull the trigger if one of those damn crocs showed back up

Silently he waded into the tepid waters a bit more. 

He never saw the one come up from behind. 

 

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Shot (an acrostic poem)

So tired the effort to keep my eyes open is herculean

Here I am trying to pull the trigger on this deal

Opportunity doesn’t knock twice they always say

That’s why I’m going to slug it out

 

Image: ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/660/media/images/73181000/jpg/_73181187_panic-button.jpg