Just Ante Meridiem
High noon coming ... sixty minutes to go
Three angry riders,
twelve hooves on a swift approach
Six six-shooters strapped to the waist
of six angry eyes
Revenge on a five-year slow burn
today ends —
Somebody’s gonna die
A tin star is gon fall from the sky
Just before noon,
the last stagecoach is leaving town
Kicking a wild stallion dust cloud
on the tail of the four wheels,
The throats of the remaining folks
is boa constrictor tightening
Strolling out from the telegraph office
strides the local sheriff
A calvary message sent,
and a preacher message delivered to the people:
Stay calm, remain inside ...
hold onto hope, believe in tarrying miracles
And the tall, stoic sheriff looks up at the church steeple
He knows time is a Roman legion,
a locust swarm coming ... just ante meridiem
High noon arrives,
and the dust cloud subsides
In the middle of the street
stands three hats against one
Legend has it, that the three
drew the first guns
And the last shots fired
were faster than the first ones
Six boots lay dead on the ground,
and one dented tin star stood upright alive
People in the county
pondered the miracle witnessed
that fateful day
Some wondered was it a newfangled weapon
that gave the lawman the edge
Others debated did the high noon light
reflected from the silver steeple
blind the bad men ever so briefly
But all confessed
they witnessed a miracle
just post meridiem
A just after noon
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2018
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