A long ride, not much in between,
Upon a quiet, deserted town I came.
Not a soul in sight, a breeze echoes through
Many different sounds as if people lived.
Only ghosts of a town that once had breath,
The back and forth clanging of an open
A saloon sign creaking as it swings in the wind,
I can almost feel those who once were here.
Only dust walks these streets, this town that died,
I'll stay here for the night, I'll be alright,
The only thing that will be my company are a horse and
Keith, your poem takes me back to tumbleweeds blowing across the barren prairie of eastern Montana.