In The Doorway

A Ranger dressed in black, Stocky and tall

and unshaven. Slunk. A minute ago he

was not there at all.In his hand is a brown

bottle from which he swigs wiping his mouth

with the back of the same hand. He smiles at

me and his teeth are dark and uneven too.

It’s the sort of face only a mother could love

and care for. I am wondering what he wants

with me, what he is doing standing in my kitchen

doorway looking like he has just gotten off his horse

after a long ride.Then the apparition is gone only an

echo remains.

Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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