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"western"

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Badlands


The badlands
Into the badlands the bad man ran
Hiding out from the hero’s of the lawless land
Canyon roads deep and narrow
Here the hawks eat the sparrow
Diving down to the depths of the ravines

Like the veins of his body
Pumping blood quickly, hotly
the system of trails branched away.
Deeper in he goes, more hidden, he knows
To evade capture and get away clean.

Kicks the sides of his horse
Thick skin but it hurts
The dust kicks up horseshoes a’ clicking

Seeing clouds up ahead
Through the rocks of dusty red
The sheriff looked up just in time.

Badge glints in the sun
Grit inscribed on his gun
His hat casting shadow o’er his eyes

He closed in on his man
Knowing time’s no one’s friend
with a rope wrangled him to the ground

one more vanquished bad man
in the long list of them
grit prevails with the sheriff around

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Cactus

...she rode through the cactus rising up from the ground. Earlier this morning, in town, she had seen the women in the carriage with her curled hair and white gloved hand hanging listlessly out the window. What a life she imagined the woman must have. What a life. The hooves tapped on the dry ground, hollow and vast...
that night, as she lay under the big sky, she thought about what it might be like in a fluffy bed with soft white sheets. She closed her eyes to imagine it. Almost wishing herself there. But when she opened her eyes, she looked up at the bright, glimmering stars. They sparkled down on her like a thousand well-wishing angels. And she knew she wouldn't change places for anything...

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"Now as for me, I always had the funniest notion to roll stones. When I was a kid, I did it, an' the bigger I got, the bigger the stones I'd roll. Ain't that funny? Honest...even now I...often get off my hoss jest to tumble a big stone over a precipice an' watch it drop, an' listen to it bang an' boom. I've started some slides in my time, an' don't you forget it. I never seen a rock I wanted to roll as bad as this one!"
Lassiter from Riders of the Purplge Sage
by Zane Grey

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