My grandmother always said we had American Indian blood in our bloodline. Now, they are titled Native Americans.
He could barely see,
With his hat pulled down low,
His horse knew where to go.
The strong man in leather---a gun at his side,
He rode in the shadows---better to hide.
Home was nearer now,
He would make it somehow.
He could almost smell his ma’s cooking,
He hoped she would not come looking.
His blue-green eyes turned jade with pain,
He wished he could disconnect the signals to his brain.
The blood had ceased to flow,
With a bullet lodged in his back,
But the pain and pressure were not lack.
A jaw full of chew,
He spit in the morning dew.
He avenged his Pa,
Yesterday, at the showdown,
He killed that murderous clown.
The murderous scum shot an old man for laughs,
His Pa had come to town to sell one of his calves.
Who is laughing now you rotten Son of a Snake,
I watched you die---to never again wake.
I killed your men
They will never ride---again.
The Sheriff---a wimp of a man,
Had a short attention span.
Never drew his gun,
Until, after the deed was done.
He heard riders from the north coming fast,
It was “Black Hawk” with his fellow
They took the wounded cowboy off his horse,
Black Hawk cleaned the blood away with Whiskey—of course
The cowboy named Will was Black Hawk’s half- brother,
They grew up together---they shared the same mother.
His father a white man,
The cowboy was a breed,
But their love was unconditional---indeed.
Will’s two worlds spun as the bullet was cut out,
Biting on leather kept the screams---back without a doubt.
Next morning when the sun came up over the plains,
They all rode towards home---once again.
To bury a good man in the cold Texas ground,
That was shot by a murderous clown.
Nothing is thicker than blood,
Together they had always stood.
Their mother stood between Will and Black Hawk,
To watch the Heavens as Will’s father did his upward walk.
Drums echoed through the hills---as the wolves and coyotes howled
The biggest wolf stood on a hill and towards the Heavens he growled.
With heavy hearts they watched the sun go down,
Behind the hills as they stood on the cold Texas ground.
Tomorrow would be another day,
That was the hard Texas way.
© 2021 Barbara Purvis Hunter