“Vaquero”
May 17th, 2020
Out of the rain
Waltzes a vaquero on the plains
Bringin’ home to his mother, ‘June’
As he goes this way
Almost fevery, the other day
Searchin’ for flowers for her room
He catches a smile, an ancient friend
And stills he feet till he smells the wind
He knows the taste and wishes it would end soon
It’s far too real for his current feel
And pushes a blade slowly through his mood
Death never smells its best when it’s a week past fresh
And it’s been left bathing with the moon