The Kid

His hat pulled over the baby blues
      A  squint          a stare as
he slowly headed down a street that had never known
                  violence with a pistol on either hip
drawing the attention of each passerby but never meeting their gaze
       as he trod with a purpose toward a destination that had his arrival timed for 
high noon
 while his heart beat fast as he saw the hands of the town clock
             reaching for the sky sending the message
that it might be too late when a voice stopped him in his tracks
                  saying
Tommy, where have you been. It's time for lunch.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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