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.
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