To See Marlena, Part I
Conley Pratt slouched over the horn
of a battered and trail-worn saddle,
been on the run for several hours now
after being caught rustling cattle.
His side ached, caked in fresh blood
from where a large bullet had struck,
he heard a gurgling rasp in each breath,
and knew he was running low on luck.
He’d never expected to end up here,
a hunted, desperate, ailing rustler,
but times had been hard, he’d made a choice
and now rode, despondent, for the border.
He saw it ahead, just a small stake
that stuck out of the dull, desert ground.
Then somebody shouted,”Look, there he goes!”
Conley did not even bother turning 'round.
He spurred his old roan, pushing onwards,
each step painfully jarring his wound,
He gritted his teeth, and kept up the gallop,
he would be reaching safety soon.
He crossed over then, be he didn’t stop,
not knowing they’d give up the chase.
Shots rang out, and one caught his arm,
but the posse did not push on his way.
Moaning, and bleeding from a new gash,
he struggled hard to maintain his path,
But he’d reach her, he’d reach his Marlena,
and then there’d be no looking back!
He could see her now in his mind’ eye,
tanned skin, dark eyes, and straight hair,
his Mexican beauty, she had pledged to him,
with Marlena there would be no despair.
And now since he could never go back,
he would take her down before the priest,
But first he would have to heal from these wounds,
by ministrations she’d give tenderly.
Her two-room hut came arose in twilight,
And from within it came a soft glow,
bathing in lantern light an adobe wall,
and a small, rectangular widow.
Conley slumped lower, horse trotting on,
having reached the place just in time,
His stomach throbbed, his lungs labored,
without help he faced the end of the line.
He dismounted slowly, then limped on up
and through the window did he see
Marlena on her back, long legs spread wide
while a tall man thrusted vigorously.
Conley’s strength flagged at the mere sight
and he slumped against the hard wall,
his vision faded out to the sound of her cries,
The fates really had taken it all…
CONTINUES IN PART II.
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