Four Senryu On The Colt 1861 - Poem by Charles Cohn
The long-barreled Colt
Reaches out and shakes my hand.
'Ah... We've met before.'
This sleek revolver
Flowing smoothly from my hand:
A 'BOOM! ' and smoke... smile.
The draw, quickly, now...
From her leather home she leaps,
Hammer back, ready.
The warm days call us.
'A match! A match! ' Powder burns,
We smell the sulfur.
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