Waking in a Western

when I wake I’m a cowboy
my knee fires pistols 
as it straightens
and my hip
in such stiff leather
is weighted with several rounds

as I gallop to the present
through the dust
inevitable in such movies
and as I crash inelegantly
between saloon doors
acknowledging sleep’s parting

I realise that it’s nearly
time for school
the kitchen eyes me
over pots of frothy liquid
and the sun leans
drunken on the sill

6 thoughts on “Waking in a Western

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