Odd ends Page 5
Ridin' drag
headed up the Texas Trail
chasing ornery bunch quitters
dust thick enough for biscuit-jam
gully-riders foggin' leather
yelling and guns a popin'
tried for my Winchester
a quick thump in my side
warm blood on my hand
jammed spurs to Old Dun
another thump in my shoulder
turned me and missed the apple
to slide down a long darkness
overhead a blurry Cookie yelling
tried to ask him who found me
Old Dun I croaked. Cookie nods.
High meadow
growin' cooler
brownin' grass
breathin' smoke
bucket ice
gray skies
drift 'em
on down
Old Dun