another town

when you ride into town
looking for a clean
room to lie down in.
a square meal and a drink,
a stable to feed and
water your horse, everyone
stops to take a long
look at you.
they don't like strangers
around here.
they don't need
new friends, or new
enemies for that matter.
you see the brooms
stop sweeping, the barber
stop snipping hair.
you see the sherrif
putting bullets
into his gun and spinning
the chamber. even
the dogs, mad as they
are, stop barking
to size you up. but you
don't care. it's been
that kind of year.
and as the mayor looks
out the window from
the brothel, you tip
your hat and smile.
each town is the same.
one nights sleep is
all you need and you'll
be out of there.