The Graveyard on Indigo Flats
His mother cried the day he died
Yet no other, not even his brother
Died really violent, just like his pa
But better dead than face the law
Six-foot box and a six-foot hole
Thrift store suit for his wretched soul
Whiskey glass and money gone
Yet not a cent to carry on
Losing hands that kept repeating
So, another man, he said was cheating
Much too young with a reckless gun
This damn fool called a main street duel
Sun in the sky, noon chimed the clock
Folks held their breath, no one did talk
He stood in the west, facing the east
Unshaved and dirty, a miserable beast
His hat pulled low and dusty trail slicker
Drew his gun fast, but the other drew quicker
A shot rang out and he fell to the ground
Eyes rolled back, with a whimpering sound
His body was crumpled in a twisted position
But quickly resolved by the local mortician
The coffin was closed, as the heat grew intense
His gun and his horse, the funeral expense
As the wagon passed, men held their hats
With the graveyard awaiting on Indigo Flats
Though the service prepared, not a one came
So, the Padre began, but he left him unnamed
Here now he lies, this boy who just died
Have pity oh Lord, then he did testify
Ashes go to ashes, dust then to dust
This sinner, oh Lord, we place into your trust
Have mercy on him, despite his transgressions
Open your gates, and bring him to heaven
A wave of the cross, and a prayer for his soul
Then strong stoic men dumped the box in the hole
They shoveled and filled, yet made not a sound
Marked the grave with a post, headed to town
The stain in the dirt, now a bloody dark spot
Boy’s face forgotten, but not the place he was shot
The gravediggers know, he’s just one of the many
Men will draw guns for a drink or a penny
Out on Indigo Flats, the population still none
Just ghosts of those men, who died by the gun
Additional Reading
R.J. Schwartz is an American Poet and Author.
His complete works on The Creative Exiles Website can be found here
The Gypsy Thread is a huge collection of his original work
Ralph also writes on HubPages
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I always marvel at the way your poems flow so nicely with great phrasing and emotion. You are a master of words. I am a great fan of ‘Gunsmoke’ and know that so many men died by the gun – even in real life. Great work as always, Ralph.
You are too kind. Believe it or not, but this one is inspired by Kurt
Enjoy western poetry and your contribution is worthy of a few reads. Great story well presented and in perfect poetic form. Jamie
Thank you