Storm Town
by Odin Roark

To look hard at the other end of town,
is to see the ranch-hands galloping through the dust,
in for a day of hell raisin’
‘til pesky storm passes.

Stables hear them coming.
Bartender readies up the saloon.
Glasses vibrate with the hooves.
Poker tables lay in wait.
And upstairs…

Mary Lou spices up,
adjusts her daytime red curtain,
and makes sure her candles are all set.

Rocking on his favorite chair, a smiling Clive Perkins waits patiently
as he’s mayor, sheriff and owner of the town.

Before the old town finally blew down,
taking all the good people to their graves,
old Clive ducked into his apple cellar and survived.

When he came out,
there was his favorite rocker
wedged in the wreckage.

He rocked on the barren ground for many days,
eating apples,
wondering… wondering.

Sometime later,
having hired a bunch of guys from another town,
his tumbleweed mirage was rebuilt
just like it had been.

Now, he spends his week-ends waiting
for the phantasm of an earlier era
to ride into town and make it alive again.

After all, he’s learned that ghosts have a reality of their own,
providing they can outgallop that storm before it gets here.