January Afternoon

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Come sit with me
and tell me some tale
in the January after`noon
Let it be for us a field of play
upon which we wage wits
You in your white hat
and I in my black

Come catch me
if you can on a steed
black as January midnight
I know a hole in the waterfall
where men can disappear
my ancient palomino
and I on his back

And if I should die
this day from a bullet
spun by your Winchester
aim straight toward my heart
Leave me not to bleed`out
gut`shot by this rock
And tend my horse

“Let my snow-tracks lead
on, on. Let them, where they stop,
stop. There, in mid-field.” ~ Hayden Carruth

Artwork by Philip Goodwin
picsunday.com

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About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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3 Responses to January Afternoon

  1. Wonderful, Peter! It reminds me about a beautiful childhood and a my dear grandma, who read Buffalo Bill comics and stories with me when I was 4 or 5 – almost half a century ago. Belated happy new year, my friend! :-)

    Liked by 1 person

    • Carsten, my Friend, So nice to hear from you! And a blessed New Year to you as well. Glad you liked this old man’s fantasy and that it brought back memories of times black`n`white . . .

      Liked by 1 person

      • Dear Peter, I always enjoy to read your wonderful poems and probably should comment much more often but most of the time I am so busy with painting that I am a little bit Scrooge-like with spending time for other things. Sorry for that – but I do always read and enjoy your poems. This one did touch me in a special way bringing up beautiful memories and I could not resist to comment. Thank you! :-)

        Liked by 1 person

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