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Welcome To The Bullpen
SUNSETS
Floyd Henderson
He never saw the flame split night's black
Nor felt the bullet as it entered his back
Only sensing the stars wheeling overhead
As he fell to the dust with arms outspread
And listened to the hunter finish his stalk
With cautious approach down the wooden walk
Of this last in a string of nameless towns
Where the late-night curious gather around
To see the outlaw's lifeblood slowly seep
From his body to wash the town's only street
And hear the raider whisper his last request
For someone to tell the woman he loves best,
"Ma, I'm sorry...I love you."
She watches the street for strangers ridin'
With eyes seekin' a woman who may be hidin'
From a past ill spent in revel and drink
And never a pause to regret or rethink
Acts that led her to this life of shame
But honestly findin' no other to blame
'Til finally her will gives up the fight
To survive the debauch of another night
Or face righteous ladies by light of day
When she visits a church to softly pray
That God will grant her last request
And whisper to him that she loves best,
"Papa, I'm sorry...I was bad."
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REVIEW 1
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