Annies Gun
“Never trust your life behind a cheap gun”
- Annie Oakley
Annie, has a heavy heart.
But also a light heart
one that shines in the sun.
and regardless light or dark,
Annie’s bright heart will spark
and spin out a round, whistling like a song being sung.
With only moments notice,
before most prepare to know it
She showcases its essence in one single sentence.
But a statement to render us speechless
Pierced as a whole.
All of us she reaches.
Standing there alone
with her gun.
She splits a playing card at 90 yards
without care.
Plugs a nickle in the middle
flipping through the air,
and with a single shot, puts out a candle flame
without disturbing wax a drop.
The hammer and trigger are stock,
and cherry is the handle.
Handmade, crafted, shaped
like herself, to perform in dust and rain.
Tooled as a saddle and Gold washed in a barrel.
But Annie's gun is a mystery.
And what's more
when she points her heart towards anything
or chooses to use it for our amusement
Her targets are always attained.
Somehow by her grit, grip and will,
we're left in awe, and even a little afraid
of Annie's heart of iron and steel.
Afraid of the way, she owns the stage.
Holds and keeps her gaze on the straight away,
as we ourselves stare down the sight
she'll let fly the first of bullets loaded that day
With five more, soon on the way
“Never trust your life behind a cheap gun”
she'd say.
And each round fired off
takes us back to a younger age.
The image of the dying past, laying to final rest,
The old west
and the way things used to be.
To see those cards split at the neck of the king.
Lit cigarettes gently whisked away
from the lips of her husband, sitting
blindfolded, or asleep
She alone stands with Sitting Bull,
A dying breed.
For us watching those bottles break
Our hearts too, shatter as much as they
having never seen such a scene
as we've seen today
they scatter
with the ashes in the breeze.
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