El Relámpago Misterioso

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The dust now clears,
One man stands alone;
Boot spurs shining on the rust colored earth.
Surrounded only by a few ramshackle buildings and nothing else,
Empty as if there was a lingering sense of danger in the air.
A mysterious figure approaches;
He rides in like the sun,
Yet his presence is dark and foreboding.
His majestic equine acquaintance uneasy
As he unsaddles, tips his hat, and readies his holster,
Nothing but a silhouette blemish on the crystal blue sky.
He stands firm.
Like the mountains that towered on the horizon.
He turns his back and counts his paces
As if this meeting between the two men was premeditated,
One…Two…Three..
A bullet is heard,
A piercing shriek
That seems to cut the dead heat of noon,
And like the parting sea
The momentous discord is then swallowed up by the prevailing silence.
And as if by routine or by the usual occurrence
That same man who rode in like the sunrise,
Now sets on the small town
Leaving nothing but dust, and a reputation,
That will follow him,
Whether by choice or by destiny
As he rides into the endless sea of desert.





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