Must read Poetry

This is posted with the Authors express permission
you can find more of her work "Here"


TWO THINGS

Two things move under night sky
the thing that came to kill, and I

He, released from prison to roam
and I, peaceably headed to home

He carries a knife and drug addled sense
seeing just prey, without defense

I detect movement, intuitive fear
and put my hand to pistol near

Worried, alone in that gloomy blight
above the fear, I prepare to fight

He hears the click of a chambered round
fleeing quickly to hunt safer ground

No predator dares go hunting for me
for I am armed, that makes me free

I holster my pistol and slowly stand down
heading towards home in a dark, sleeping town

For there are two things that will not die
my right to carry, and this night, I
© Brigid - Home on the Range 2009