Duel

tribute to vintage cinema.....

the gunman steps into the street

 

at the appointed hour, his adversary to meet

he does not feel the noonday heat

nor the windswept earth beneath his feet

three pounds of iron hang at his side

lashed to his thigh with a strip of cowhide

the notched bone handle records the dead

 

victims fallen to chambered lead

the ching of his spurs ring a telltale sound

like a tolling of death on the main street of town

the august air hangs like an ominous shroud

over the aging lawman, lean and bowed

a lone, starred sentinel, to the law long wed

he towers in the street like an iron figurehead

the gunman turns at forty paces or more

the hammer thong slips from his forty-four

cold eyes set hard in a face worn and weathered

his steady hand hovers over the Colt now untethered

a sudden gust of wind hits the sweat of his back

his concentration so briefly slacks

the lawman's motions are fluid and quick

the hog leg un-sheaths as the hammer clicks

a split second later both barrels belch lead

a moment later the ground runs red

beneath the gunman crumpled face down in the street

 

forty paces or so from the lawman he beat

when the red sun in the east on the morrow

breaks over boot hill to shed light on it's sorrows

two freshly dug graves, side by side

will receive the gunman and the lawman he tried

 

 

 

Reviews

[icelandicblue]

Westerns have been on my mind today after talking to Dr. Wood today. I like this high noon moment you've drawn here. I could feel the sun and the dust and that moment right before the triggers were pulled. You've got nice imagery in this one.

[fugitive]

Thanks for the thoughts....my biggest challenge is not overusing adjectives while conveying sight, sound, touch etc.......