Odd ends

  Ridin' drag

  headed up the Texas Trail

  chasing ornery bunch quitters

  dust thick enough for biscuit-jam

  gully-riders foggin' leather

  yelling and guns a popin'

  tried for my Winchester

  a quick thump in my side

  warm blood on my hand

  jammed spurs to Old Dun

  another thump in my shoulder

  turned me and missed the apple

  to slide down a long darkness

  overhead a blurry Cookie yelling

  tried to ask him who found me

  Old Dun I croaked. Cookie nods.

  High meadow

  growin' cooler

  brownin' grass

  breathin' smoke

  bucket ice

  gray skies

  drift 'em

  on down

  Old Dun