Western Haiku Tale

A gambler's eyes squint
Cool exterior facade
Bluff? Cheat? Or just fold?

The table was flipped
Drinks and cards spilled, guns drawn
The showdown began

Saloon doors shatter
Brawl spills into street; gunshots
A last breath, taken

A child left behind
Grows in his father's shadow
Vengeance is coming

Like seeds sewn with hate
Vengeance grows. Hate fuels fire
His mark; the Mayor

He was protected
The sheriff in his pocket
And gold was true law

Justice awaits night
A cloak of inky blackness
Candlelight flickers

The mayor's office
Which is of course the saloon
Smells of sweat and ash

Acrid cigar smoke
Tendrils from fragrant brown leaves
Something seems amiss

His mask hides his truth
Bandana hides a grimace
Saloon doors swing open

He steps through the door
With his threats soon to follow
This won't be pretty

Bruised and bones broken
Bloody noses - bring it on
Those riders won't quit*

The mayor's henchmen
Bull riders by profession
But Vengeance is strong!

And with labored breath
Blood running into his eyes
He finds the Mayor

"You're dead," the man growled,
"I am the goddamn Mayor,
You best say your prayers!"

Vengeance drew his gun
And in the blink of an eye
Blood covered the bar

Limping out the door
"That was for my pa," he said
Taking a deep breath

A weight now lifted
And eyes on the setting sun
His life could begin

A few of these were written with or by "Not Drawn Everyday" (noted in italics) and Mary Pettigrew (noted with an asterisk). It was really fun to play with their words.