Time To Lay Low

The rocky desert was searing red, And the sky was lapis lazuli When thundering hooves and swirling dust Brought grimy, grim men fast riding by. Their looks and their mien were vulturine With dark eyes that were as hard as stone. ‘Twas easy to see it was risky To be riding this bleak land alone. I held my peace and stayed in my cave Hidden beneath the Mogollon Rim. Three months and a day, I hid away Until my trail was colder than snow. I saddled my horse and lit a shuck, Riding by night for old Santa Fe. No man of the gun, I hated to run. What else could I do with no alibi? I rode the horse that carried the gold Of the late robbers who shot my son.