Berms rise high to the left and right,
they’ve created a wide gully,
another berm squares off the back,
so no stray rounds ever get free.
There’s a metal spinner back there,
sits just short of two hundred yards,
I squeeze back and the bullet flies,
recoil jolts shoulder and arm.
I hear that small, metallic ping,
and thrill that I’ve gotten a hit,
may...
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