The man stood still against the wooden wall.
They’d come to hang him, hang him high, because
He’d said that never should one cower down
To priests, nor anyone to anyone.
“Obey” was not a word he recognized.
The three men, angry, with large muscles taut,
Looked hard, hard at him where at ease he stood,
And were afraid. His bright black eyes drilled, drilled
Through blankness, nothing, and they saw themselves,
And were afraid. The biggest swung at him,
Looking aside, and tripped. Fast as light
He bent, grabbed his gun and fired, thrice!
To horse! He flew, away, away, away!
Do men confess, now, joyous feelings felt,
Confess again for thinking he was right,
And offer up again their souls to night?

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s