Tuesday, August 18, 2020

why is this door locked

as a child
for hours i could sit in the dark
on my rocking
horse
and kill indians
and bank robbers
bad
guys.
two guns
in my holster.
my imagination
running wild
with adventure.
springing along
on my
horse.
caps going off,
as i yelped and hollered,
slapping my
had against my stallion.
my mother
banging on
the door, jiggling the knob,
asking what's
going in there.
dinner's ready, why is
this door locked.
she had no
idea i was about to rescue
the beautiful
girl in distress,
tied to the railroad
tracks
and what was to follow
next.
ten more minutes, i'd
yell out,
then gallop on.

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