I
saw the fallen
hero
of his own story
take
a journey down the tracks.
I
saw him by the trestle
waving
his untucked shirt tail
and
kissing his shoes goodbye.
He
had places to go.
The
sun leaned over
his
left shoulder.
Twin
dust sisters danced
for
him and him alone.
This
ain't no long gone
and
low down walk-about, he said.
He
said it twice.
The
Yellow Dog hollered down the tracks.
The
Yellow Dog hollered down the tracks,
and
he ain't looking back.
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