holding out hope

sure I did

but didn't you, too?

always seeing what seems to be true

while looking for something new.

pushing aside the swinging doors,

walking into the saloon,

smelling spilled beers and lovers all in a swoon.

wondering if I missed happy hour

or am I simply here too soon?

there's trail dust on my hat

& my feet are sore;

not one to be keeping score

but around the nearest corner

there's little Jack Horner

hitching a ride,

his book of dreams about a man who died

like a noose hanging down by his side.

and I don't mean to be snide

but once in the village square,

down on my knees

I said a simple prayer

imagining a soft bed,

a safe place to rest my head

after a hard days week.

eight days and nights under the stars

hitching my horse

after being blown off course;

then playing a game of cards,

holding five aces,

placing my bets:

it's as easy as life gets.

but after reading my fate, 

wiping away the grime,

trying to act innocent

in a world awash with crime,

I washed my soul of sin

drinking a double shot of gin:

and the bartender knew my name,

but it always tastes the same,

drinking coke-a-cola or sipping dread.

sinking to the floor while keeping my head;

coming in last or first;

living a life while dying of thirst:

in my dreams 

she's always by my side,

open to adventures with nothing to hide:

never one to shy away

ready for labor and ready for play.

into my mind 

across the universe,

we're shifting gears

fast forward and into reverse

walking into the saloon,

smelling spilled beers and lovers all in a swoon.

wondering if I missed happy hour

or am I simply here too soon?