David DeVary artwork “Rusty”
http://www.daviddevary-santafe.com/posters.html
The stranger came to her on a night
when all the passion had disappeared,
and the woman had learned to live
without any arms to hold her tight.
the years had given her time to
adjust to sleeping alone,
running the one thing that kept her alive,
the family owned hotel.
Up the dirt road
the figure rode alone,
well worn saddle beneath
the majesty of a woman from the hills
brightly gleaming,
bouncing in rhythm,
gold hair waving in song,
mirror of the mane before her
as she and the horse approached as one.
A quick, determined dismount
brought the stranger to the ground,
and for the first time
in a long time
the woman worried about
how the wind had blown her own hair,
how hard the humidity had curled the ends,
how she looked in this same dress,
a faded fabric memory of long lost cheer.
As the stranger approached her,
a warm smile upon her face,
eyes dancing with firelight,
and a devil may care look
in every step she made,
the woman brightened her own smile,
and welcomed the stranger for a stay.
The day went painfully slow,
as the stranger slept in,
but as soon as the twilight appeared,
so the stranger took her place
in the bar across the lobby,
puposefully in full view of
her hostess’ survey,
and it didn’t take long ’til
the stranger noticed
the feel of a visual embrace.
Once again that grin ran across
the stranger’s beautiful lips,
and she turned slightly
towards the entry way,
stopping the woman in her tracks,
now blushingly embarassed for getting
caught so easily.
The stranger set down
the almost empty glass
and looked straight into
the dark eyes of this woman
who she felt she already knew,
then motioned for the woman to pass
through the open door on the backside
of the bar and follow her outside
to where the fireflies
began to spark.
The woman met the stranger by the swing
and sat next to her,
silently watching the fireflies
and the stars that began
to stir.
The stranger reached gently over,
and took the woman’s hand,
and sat with her until the dark
covered the land.
As the moon rose
in peach and orange hues,
the stranger made the move
to pull the woman close,
and the woman did not refuse.
She leaned her head lightly
upon the strong arm
of this woman fair
and allowed herself to fall into
whatever was happening there.
Then came the day when the stranger
had to get a taste of the road once more,
a little time to go here and there,
she couldn’t help it,
she was born this way,
but the woman who had been downtrodden
was renewed and no matter what else
might come her way,
from that day forward,
there’d always be more
for the stranger brought back life,
and the love that grew there
turned strangers into lovers and friends -
such love and passion has no end.
Months passed and on a damp August day,
rain dropping like bullets,
lightning dancing,
fresh washed sheets ruined
from mud stains,
she saw that figure she’d never mistake
coming back to her from the dark
shadows of the thunderstorm at bay,
watched her dismount,
shake off the rain,
grabbed her hand as she held it out,
and melted into the strong arms
of the woman who whispered into her ear,
Took care of my business. Darlin’, now I’m
home. It’s you and me from this moment on.
From this day we are born. We’ve got
nothing but time and a whole lifetime of
future to live on. Ready. Set. Let’s ride.
