All mornin' in the mesa's glare After his crouchin' back I clattered, And quick shots cut the heavy air And on the rocks the hot lead spattered. A dollar crimped, a word too free— My enemy! My enemy! He reined beside a rattlers' den And faced me there to fix the winnin'. And I wished that he would turn again, For it was hard to kill him grinnin'. His hands were empty, I could see. My enemy! My enemy! He pointed up; he pointed back. I looked, and half forgot my hatin'. A coyote sneaked along our track, A buzzard hung above us, waitin'. "Are us four all akin?" says he. My enemy! My enemy! The coyote crossed the desert's rim, The buzzard circled up and faded. I halved my only smoke with him And when dark found us limp and jaded, He sat and kep' the fire for me, My enemy! My enemy!! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VISION by GEORGE SANTAYANA A VALEDICTION: OF THE BOOKE by JOHN DONNE CITIZEN OF THE WORLD by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER THE AEOLIAN HARP; AT THE SURF INN by HERMAN MELVILLE BEAUTIFUL MEALS by THOMAS STURGE MOORE TO A DOG by JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY THE SHOEMAKERS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |