Squinting into
hot sun
melting emotions
along a wrinkled forehead
beneath a wide brim
like generations before
reach into grains of dirt
sifting through callused hands
searching for reason
time refuses
to stand corrected
four walls fall
from each direction
without sound
into thin air
its getting harder to breath
bread burns in the kitchen
children call for their mother
who was lost in the night
tress finally uproot
sway in the wind
drunk with envy
at the sky falling
to its knees
over cattle
laying down to sleep
as the last cowboy walks
with an empty holster
worn wranglers
can no longer brace
a wide stance
on the edge of the range
looking back
loosing perception
of the land.
Renowned Arizona lawman Jacob Golden is having terrible nightmares. He dreams he’s locked in a battle to the death with a demon from hell that consumes human flesh.
Golden’s a man who fears little, yet this haunting vision terrifies him to
Your words here paint the picture of the west and how the life was back then...and now.
Love Santa Cruz too. My grandparents lived there all their life.The great Sequoias are a wonderful inspiration writing as I recall.
he was/is one of the few that remain
thank you for sharing