We all remember the old West:
The double-doored saloon,
The stone-faced marshal
Nonchalantly polishing his star,
The light relief of card sharks,
The men of few words,
The rough drinks, slung along the bar,
The menace of a parched cactus,
And you, the dogsbody,
Cleaning up the mess
Once the gunfighter has gone.
Thanks, Stephen.
There are actually adults who enjoy dressing up as gunfighters.
As a little boy in the playground I ran around with a cap gun, shouting "bang-bang, you're dead'".
Fantasy for some children, grim reality for others.
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Stephen Gospage
Mon 5th May 2025 09:11
Thanks, Uilleam. Yes, I had a cap gun as a boy but for me it was fantasy, comic book stuff. Not the same for many kids, sadly, as you say.
It was one of those poems which comes and you're not entirely sure what it means. Who is the gunfighter? Jack Palance, Anthony Quinn, Clint Eastwood?
Or....no, it couldn't be HIM, could it?
And thanks to all who liked this poem.