The oppressive sun
beating down
on a forgotten southwestern town
Empty streets echo
against forsaken framework
A ghost town
I’m standing
with squinting eyes bleeding
red and watering
Dust blowing and tumbleweed
rolls as wavering heat rises
from cracked and broken earth
A slowly approaching figure
familiar in form and gait
clad in shadow
as yet unknown
Slowly solidifying
stopping in staunch stance
a hand quickly slides death
from a holster
and erupting fire
initiates thick red explotions
within my chest
I’m propelled rearward
hard to unforgiving ground
Lying still
as life seeps from gastly holes
in my plagued torso
Quietly the cloaking shadow
separates from the figure
and dying I stare
into wide innocent eyes
My son
Copyright © 2004 by Jake Olden Shy
