Miss Brown, my woman, died in a blazing fire in New Orleans, 1863. Dumb child dropped the oil lamp. I gave the child, a sick girl, to Miss Harriet, in Jackson. Went out to Wyoming parts, became a bounty hunter with Joe. Battle after battle. Joe got shot in Denver, cheating at cards. White man shot 'im. I spent six years rustling cattle on a Texas -- New Mexico track. Today, I am old and out of tricks. Never thought I'd cross back to the Southeast, but can't stop thinking about Mama. Nevada, though, is a hell of a way from Waycross. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MORTAL COMBAT by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE LAMPLIGHTER by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON UPON MY LADY CARLISLE'S WALKING IN HAMPTON COURT GARDEN by JOHN SUCKLING SONG OF THE OPEN ROAD by WALT WHITMAN THE ROMANCE OF THE LILY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES PORTRAIT SONNETS: 1 by HENRY BELLAMANN IN MEMORY OF AGOSTINO ISOLA, OF CAMBRIDGE, WHO DIED 1797 by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS |