in the middle of December
amidst the Pine and Oak and Spruce
Loosely from his lips
came his confession of love
for the power of the train
the extension of the track
Leading away from his Puritan life
into the wilds of the unknown
into the wilds of the West.
He couldn't resist the lust of the rust
thrust into saloons and parlors
cowboys and the lawless
the loveless skies and the desert
Sucks a man dry
or so I've heard
and nothing I could do in this winter interlude
could change his mind
and make him stay.
Something about the other side
of Mississippi's hips
called to him
He blundered on to say
with the look of a child on Christmas day
would I wait for him?
stones on the desert floor
would be all I'd ever see of him again.
What could I do but surrender?
Admit the Fates of Love had turned their eyes
Blind to the die cast on this winter floor
I would hear his confessions of love no more
Just one post - his written word
scribbled down in an opiate driven frenzy
of his sins on this sun-baked earth
he had surrendered to Her higher power
and then was silenced.
Mississippi's hips and Western tracks
are no match
for the likes of a humble girl.
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