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Long ago, some TV Programs the
Ponderosa, Quick Draw McGraw,
and Have Gun Will Travel. Paladin with
Richard Boone; Adult cowboy stuff.
My friend and I were enamored
with these "Western Adventures, so
we both purchased replicas of
the Colt revolver. He bought
a Colt Single Shot Revolver and
I bought a Ruger Single Six.
Both were caliber .22 Long Rifle.
We made our own holsters and
would practice "fast drawing", daily.
Not face to face but side by side.
We were young and dumb, not stupid.
I remember one day, on the RR Tracks,
by the River. No one present except the
two of us. This time we had "live" ammo.
I must admit that, as we stood side by side,
ready to "draw" that I was a tad
faster than my friend. On this occasion ,
we drew and he beat me. I looked
at my friend and his gun hadn't
cleared his holster. There was a
wisp of smoke coming from his holster.
We saw a small circle in the fine grit,
near the track, along side his foot,
where the bullet had struck.
I recall that being the last day
we had a "fast draw" event.
I miss my friend. He's been gone
quite a few years, but when I think
of that time, it brings a smile.
Farewell my friend, for it may be soon
when I join you in the proverbial
room, sharing these stories
from our past. Miss you Gary.

He does not fight to set you free.
He fights to protect his hypocrisy.
Perhaps he is, "not right in the head"
and should be locked up instead.
The death toll from this virus
continues it's rise,
when the trust of this Nation,
decimated by his lies,
continues to erode
until it's demise.
God help all in this land,
vote out this wretch of a man.

This writing is just for you,
no one else, to read and say
the words I write on this screen,
makes my mind wake up
to all those things, you do.
If you write a comment
about a line or if this
writing strikes a chord
or rings a bell about an experience
that you recall, then I will succeed
in this writing that you read;
being more about you
and very little about me.

I sit here alone;
She's next to me.
Alone in my thoughts
of our life's reverie.

She speaks of the
past life of memory,
not of facts but,
"Do you remember?"

The questions she asks,
my mind cannot see,
without more facts;
who or where it might be.

Giving a place or name,
I say back to She;

I don't know comes back to me.
Answers like this or less,
end in each of our own misery.

My Mind

Posted by MFish Posted on 05/08/2020 at 10:17PM Humor See more by MFish

My mind has chosen to wander,
a distant path towards
the corner of
nooks and crannies.
Dislodging memories,
stuck in my head.
Memories of many occurrences
I thought were dead.
Capture them now, don't wait
using ink and pen,
for if not on paper;
they will end.
These sensitive thoughts you find,
not "Let's Pretend."
Pretend you are a Pirate with
a big sword
and you're at sea, aboard ship,
of your own.
When you come across, a Merchant
Ship of Trade.
You soon will board this ship
and capture the flag,
all booty and treasures
will be yours.

My grandmother was born in
Palouse City, Washington Territory.
Something I never knew
until later in life.
A Pioneer? Probably so.
She worked her life away,
when not bearing children,
as a Station Agent/Telegrapher,
for the Northern Pacific Railroad.
As a young boy, I spent time in
a small station, that is no longer
on the RR tracks but was moved
by my Father to his property,
a short distance away.
I recall that the train was used
as a US Mail Carrier.
The train didn't stop to deliver the
mail but would throw it off, in bags,
to the Station Platform.
Picking up the mail was accomplished
by an arm that had the mail bags,
suspended, and a hook on the Mail
car would grab the bag. Mail was
sorted in the Mail car for delivery to
the next town for distribution.
I have great memories of that
Station and of my Grandmother
operating the telegraph key.
She retired from the Norther Pacific
many years ago.