The Widowmaker's Salute

The double doors opened and a clickity click
His spurs sounded off for the dead and the quick
As the stair case madam climbed for a trick
All eyes were fixed on dead-eye Dick

He had a side-ways gate like a Blue Tick hound
Stubbled beard, scarred face, more narrow than round
His eyes told the story and his lips no sound
When the widowmakers barked, the shovel broke ground

A weathered leather patch covered half of his sight
A bad disposition and a frame starved lite
To ugly he had a writ of right
And dead-eye Dick was a looking for a fight

With a whiskey in his paw and a coin on the flip
The widowmakers hung on his shapeless hip
Evil in his eye and rye on his lip
The quickest of hands not dare make a slip

The fear hung thick around the banister rails
And his exhaled breath expelled vapor trails
This was one tough hombre, tough as nails
The Cockatoo cackled.. dead men tell no tales

Suddenly then, the Kid said with a sigh
What the Hell happened to that rotten eye
Dead Eye turned, hammer on fly
The inquisitive words spoke to a thunderous reply

Have mercy on this soul was the plea to the Master
And reap what you sew in the near hereafter
The moral of the story in the words of the pastor
With a wink to the Kid…there's always someone faster….<><

by Jake Deeds

Comments (1)

Good nice little poem