Cowboy Poetry: “Hands” by Barry

Here is another entry for our 2016 Cowboy Poetry contest!

It was there when I woke,

between two clock hands-

the bullet fired, containing

part of me when I drifted

through two warring bands.

I had to accord with damned

genocide, then slide the moon

down a barrel of a gun and wait,

here it is above the ranch, I have

my hands on the horns of cattle, death

has his hands on the sun and moon. 

 

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