He rode into town, with an easy grace,
Riding his horse, at a leisurely pace,
He didn't slow down, he didn't look round
the street was deserted, and he heard not a sound.
The silence was eerie, but then it was broken,
A woman ran into a house with her child
And a dog started barking nearby,
scaring two birds who flew into the sky,
He tethered the animal outside of the bar,
Stepped up to the doors, and pushed them ajar,
Walking into the dimly lit room he could see,
A saloon full of men, drinking rye whiskey.
For a moment the whole place went silent,
As he walked to the bar with intent,
The bartender, looked him straight in the eye,
what’ll it be he said, can I pour you a glass of rye,
“That’s very kind” he said, “I’ve ridden hard today”
“Pour me a long cold drink of milk the barman heard him say,
Someone in the crowded room, Could not restrain a snigger,
And a ripple of laughter started and gradually grew bigger.
The barman said “Yes sir””cold milk”, did you say?
Our man stayed cool, it just was his way,
He ignored the laughs, he just let them pass,
they stopped when he said, “yes milk but, in a dirty glass”,
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Comments about this poem (Cool Rider by Damian Cranney )
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