The country club was depeopled
For it rained hard with the breeze
He, the poet, somehow got into it…
And sat by the window sealed…
The time was evening though
And the poet’s beer mug had all the glow
Of the setting sun in the west,
Just then arrived in cow-boy dress
The woman of the wild with holstered waist!
He looked at her drenched shirt
And the water dripping from her hat
She came banging the door smart!
And ordered a pitcher before she sat…
She took off her hat and placed
It on the wood brown
Then she untied her hair from the lace
And let it flow her shoulder down…
He looked at her side profile
A woman who had crossed all gale
She smelt of strong gunpowder
Was she a rodeo…or a wrangler?
He thought all these
As the strong wind crossed the knot-speed
She looked…
View original post 640 more words
WILDsound Festival 