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Cowboy Poetry and Western Verse
Vigilante
Delia J. Fry
From a window, the saloon light
To the rain sloshed alley
A silver flash in the night
A vigilante, young and brash
And the town drunk, poor soul
They scuffle, fall and splash
With a lunge, the knife is in
Into the heart and death is sure
As is the vigilante’s sly grin
The old drunk made no sound
Even in his last dying breath
As he bled into the wet ground
Was he too drunk to feel?
The youth grins, no one saw
As he wipes the knife on his heel
Youth took pleasure in the kill
His conscience was not stirred
He is proud of his prowess and skill
Years later he still sees the dead face
And is caught in fear’s strangling vise
The loitering memory makes his heart race
Now the old vigilante trembles
And wrings his unsteady hands
Because his young son resembles
A young vigilante with a knife
Again he see's quick silver flash
And a sly grin and swaggering life
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