I woke up and down
The dust pack rode
A mannerly hoarse
Throated fellow.
He looked up the town
On the map he held down
As I meandered
Over to hello
Stranger he wasn't
Restrained in the least
As he reigned in his beast
My eyes took in creased
Facial features
He nodded off then
To the right and the left
And he left, never slowed
Down the dust packed road
A mannerly hoarse
Throated fellow.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
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