TUMBLE WEEDS

A long ride, not much in between,

Upon a quiet, deserted town, I came.

Not a soul in sight, a breeze echoes

Through this place,

Many different sounds as If people

Lived.

Only ghosts of a town that once had

Breath,

The back and forth clanging of an

Open jailhouse door.

A saloon sign creeks 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

Tumbleweeds.

Keith Garrett

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