met at dawn amid a forest of snows and crisp foliage of immobile pines
carriages drawn by solemn horses exhaled misty breath and stopped
the duellists alighted
within their purview their seconds offered up weapons in cases lined in brocaded silver and green velvet
each revolver was French and intricately carved as a canyon by forgotten rivers beyond antiquity
the barrels duly packed with gunpowder in homage to their Chinese counterfeits
the air was as still and cold as marble
adamantine bullets of pearl and shards of metal admixed and polished designed to carve the air like silk were loaded and the pistols cocked
they walked away back to back some twenty paces with as little effort as a Roman Empress carried aloft a palanquin by footsoldiers
turned shot and felled each other with blood creeping from broken hearts staining the snow in random rivulets then pulsed no more
the smoke ascending slowly as side arms dropped silent as falling snow
their only witnesses the man servants and a congress of ravens spectral against the clouds aloof to the passions unleashed on earth inferior to their gaze
even the Devil demurred and stayed away
their matter of honour settled now beyond appeal
Flynnpoetry 
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