Saturday, February 13, 2010


the terror comes back sometimes,
cocky, swaggering, like it owns this town.

when i feel it i hide,
bolt behind the saloon, peek out
through the slatted swinging doors, i let
it stay as long as it wants.

but someday. someday soon,
i will see the dust rising beneath its boots,

i will feel its shots, feel pain, and i will

get up, plant my feet, cock back
the hammer and stand firm.

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