Please
Page 118

Some are ready to give, others not.
Each has its own cycle.
Listen first.
Walk among them and you will know.

Personal
Page 15

It was thunder and lightning
At the Black Gulch Saloon.
Thelma and Zeke were
Playing that tune.

The cowboy came in
And strode to the bar.
The grizzled beard, the rain soaked clothes...
Told to all he came far.

“Whiskey,” he said,
In a low gravelly voice.
Something told you
He was not here by choice.

As he shifted a bit
And slowly scanned the room,
I first noticed his eyes,
The reflection of doom.

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© 2003, David Sweet. All Rights Reserved.