Amish Swing

I have an Amish swing

on my back deck-

a

hand

me

down

from a mom who moved twice

after forsaking family.

It's a comfortable swing

built perfectly

for my drunk ass-

shhh...

don't make the Amish aware

of my sinful flare.

Speaking of which,

I sit quietly

with my rifle.

The sweet smell of gun oil

mixes with

the gentle sway of day,

and my heart

beats quickly

being so close to home.

From my back deck,

I see the forest

open up,

revealing hidden teeth.

Some might think

this is when

truth snaps like gunfire,

and old meat

gets hunted for its wisdom,

But I just swing,

overthinking things

the Amish

know nothing about,

while blowing bubbles

in the bottom of

a watered down

gin & tonic.