Phantom on wind
A ghost whisper
The voice wafting on the breeze
An outline on the clouds
The presence just out of reach
A place where time stands still
It could be a hundred years
From yesterday
Silence has a voice
You can feel inside
The cowboy emerges from the fog
Like a whispering ghost
The horse as much a ghost as he
An easy smile follows
With a simple howdy as greeting
We share a cup of coffee
And quiet conversation
Saying his name is Willy
We notice the six shooter
In the holster on his hip
Willy has a gun
He can drink all the coffee he likes
Noticing ours eyes on his weapon
With an easy smile and calm voice
Willy tells us about the cougar
Which has been dining on his herd
Before he gets back on his horse
Gone in the fog from once he came
We look at each other
And both at once we both say
Did that just happen
Was that real
As the fog warily hangs
There is no sign of hoof prints
But there are three empty cups to wash
The holiday was over
Time to return to reality
We packed up camp
Leaving the Cypress hills
We asked at the gas station
About Willy the cowboy
The old attendant laughs
Telling us the story about Willy
His great great great grand dad
Who disappeared in 1863
As we we drove away from the hills
There was Spotted Appaloosas shadowing us
Running in the field
We both sat in silence watching for a time
As the fog clears
The ghost was gone with the wind
2 comments:
Well let me tell you, Pilgrim ...
Have you chatted with the gas attendant up by the mini golf...
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