She pointed the rifle into the sky,
Pulled the trigger and the bullet shot out faster than a hare.
The sun shone and smiled high in the sky,
The bullet flew further until you couldn't see it with the naked eye.
She turned away and walked out the gate,
Because she knew it would soon be late.
The bullet rose up until it reached the sun's rays,
And turned it into the moon's soft glaze.
She started to walk on as she put the gun away,
knowing that she would come back the very next day.
