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.