The posse topped the rise, and paused-
Old Man Evans went ahead a bit
and he cut sign,
saw it leading,
and they caught up as he put his foot into the stirrup,
and said that it wasn't going to be long, now.
Wouldn't have to hurry,
as the horse had thrown a shoe,
and was walking, now,
rather than loping or galloping,
and they would see him in an hour or less.
The posse all checked their guns,
because they knew they were not out here
to bring anyone back to justice.
They were now turned into vigilantes,
and they wanted blood.
One by one they unpinned their stars,
given to them when they raised their hands
and swore to uphold the law,
and they put them in their saddlebags,
because they were no longer lawmen.
Because lawmen didn't ride to do the kind of thing
that they were riding to do this day.

Tweet

Comments on this poem/writing:

Click here to read other Poems by Shiloh

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: dreamer@dreamersreality.com  so the proper person may be notified.