A Failure Cowboy Returns

An empty swing is staggering,
A toy thrown on the ground,
A photo album is flapped by the wind,
Winter is standing at the door,
Dust marks of two feet on the stairs,
And a tear on the window glass.

- I've come …no answer,

No letters on the dresser,
No blood on the knives,
Nor a bullet in the mirror,
The curtains are not burnt,
And the horse is in the stable
Making a plan for escaping
There's a smell of scorching … no … it's my heart

I want somebody to reply, to take me in his arms, to dust away the ice from my chest, to iron me with a cup of tea and to make me sit before the fireplace weeping and telling, leaving my revolver asleep; tiered and cold.

There's nobody!

I looked out of the window
I saw another cowboy coming,
Asking for the same address!