Philosophically Speaking

    “It’s going to get buried,”
    I heard him say. “It” being
    Something I held dear. I began
    Thinking:  The sound as
    He spoke was immense
    With authority.  But so many
    Do that in these late days,

    I slung my gun belt around
    My waist.  “Well see about
    This,” I mumbled aloud,
    Checking the loads in my old
    Colt and feeling the few
    More in my pocket if it came
    To that.  Turning I saw

    The one who spoke near
    The end of the bar – hat down
    Over his eyes – thumbs in his
    Belt looking nonchalant.  “Hey
    You,” he heard me say and looked
    Around. “You better think again    
    Before you grab your spade