Open Spaces

The sun has settled in the west
and purple paints the prairie sky.
So here I sit, in open spaces,
with my constant companions—
my pony and my rifle.

Now the silence is heaviest,
only briefly interrupted
by the crackling fire
or occasional coyote call.

The smell of sagebrush
is quickly overpowered with
hardtack and beans on the boil.

As the night air thins and chills
my pony sets loose a single shiver.

Maybe we’ll go to town tomorrow.


Kink: Emphasis on Syntax (Inversion)
Form: Free Verse
Genre: Western