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Showdown in a Sleepy Town
Django rode to town that day,
The wind against his back.
The children halted all their play
As dust blew down the track.
He went inside the town's saloon,
His horse tied to the rail.
He knew that it was nearly noon,
With two men on his trail.
They couldn't be too far behind,
But Django didn't care.
He'd not be very hard to find,
His horse being tethered there.
Django bought himself a beer,
And drank it down real slow.
He sensed that they were very near,
And pretty soon they'd show.
But until then he'd stay right here
In this old sleepy town.
By now he'd banished every fear,
And drank the last drop down.
Then he heard their horses' hooves
Out there in the street.
Through his mind ran all the moves
He'd make when they would meet.
At last, two men came through the door,
Although no guns were drawn.
They very slowly crossed the floor;
They'd followed him since dawn.
"Now!" said one, and drew his gun;
His sidekick drew his too.
At last the showdown had begun,
And they would see it through!
Two shots rang out. Two bullets struck,
And both straight through the heart!
The two men had run out of luck;
Too slow, right from the start!
"Self-defence," observers said,
When the sheriff came.
Django raised his weary head
And said the very same.
The sheriff said, "You're free to go."
And Django tipped his hat.
Then the dead were buried, so
I'm guessing that was that!
-RH-
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Author's note: A tale of a frontier
town, and frontier justice in the
old wild west.
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Showdown in a Sleepy Town
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