Poetry
1 min
My favorites
melancholy, a cowboy
Rachel Lowry
A cowboy roams the night,
gentle as a cloud.
If you ever catch his eye,
at you, his hat, he'd bow.
At night see each wood door is locked,
no eyes see where he goes,
save little Susie and her doll,
who wait where new grass grows.
She awaits the end of day,
and he arrives with black,
long legs walk beside the short
to the road's end and back.
Night and night the pair repeat
the journey that's not long,
how silently they stroll the street
synced like a perfect song.
At road's end there is a spot
where a house once stood.
Susie and her doll sport marks
that match the nearby wood.
Entry into the Short Story & Poetry Contest
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