When Good Folks Get Mad, Part I
Madeline Cole worked over the basin,
Washing clothes for her, and her man,
In the wilds of Kansas, 1878,
Where grass, between horizons, did span.
A pretty young woman, a brand new wife
She’d yet to fall heavy with child,
But she hoped and she prayed, whenever she could
That her dreams would wait only a short while.
When on the ridge three forms appeared,
Mounted proud, riding tall on horseback.
Madeline had seen them before this day,
The whole county had felt their attacks.
The Anderlin brother, that was their name,
The scourge of this part of the west,
Rustlers, thieves, killers, and back-shooters,
No lawman rode that they could not bet.
They approached the house, leers on their faces,
The oldest a brigand names Joe.
Madeline grabbed her and rifle and went out the door,
No further would she let the filth go.
Joe he just smiled, and shook his head
Saying ‘Darling, now you listen here!
I mean to have you, one way or the other,
Play nice and there’s no need to fear.’
‘But girl if you push me, I’ll tell your plain
I’ll put six bullets into that chest.
I think you’ll agree, it would be a sin
To put six bloody holes in those breasts.’
But Madeline stood and refused to budge,
Joe’s weathered face grew more ugly and cruel.
He said,’You can’t kill us all, not today.
Be smart here, don’t be a damned fool.’
‘You’ll like what we give you, I guarantee
You’ll be moaning when you are under
The body of a real man, not some green husband
Who likes to play at being a puncher...’
CONTINUES IN PART II.
Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment