DuelA Poem by fugitivetribute to vintage cinema.....the gunman steps into the street
at the appointed hour, his adversary to meet
victims fallen to chambered lead the gunman turns at forty paces or more a sudden gust of wind hits the sweat of his back
a split second later both barrels belch lead
forty paces or so from the lawman he beat when the red sun in the east on the morrow breaks over boot hill to shed light on it's sorrows
© 2013 fugitiveReviews
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1 Review Added on October 28, 2013 Last Updated on October 28, 2013 AuthorfugitiveAboutI'll have the armadillo on rye, please...hold the tabasco...and to drink, a flagon of bilge water with a rum chaser....... more..Writing
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