The Gunfight At Dry Tears, Texas

Poem By Peter McLaughlin

Oh! they stood at rest
caught up in the test
not to pick the best
but to hold the red nest. Yes, two men
in a dusty den
held hard pens
to savor the hen. The moment was cold
for neither a bit bold
nor that side of old
to color the other's gold. The blast rang out
followed by the other's clout
and neither did shout nor pout
at the lead all about.

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Loving Nor Perfect

In all human time
there is but one rhyme.
The Crowd They say the well
holds the lush hell

Look'N Deep

Something caught my eye
maybe the center of a pie
or the loose knit of a tie
yet, as big as a black sky. Oh! it could have been