Her duster smelled like fresh horses
which was still cleaner and sweeter than
the screwy curls worming out of her savage head
holding a half breed hatred and coldblooded
distrust of every man promising some silver
for a steampunk poke but the interesting thing
is that her silence was louder than their ignorance
and stopped 'em like a bullet in their ****** gun belts
and limp lies wood pecking at her cedar door
wanting to show her some science so that sooner
or later they all took their Well Fargo fiddles away
from where they might be killed for no other reason
than a little peace and tranquility

Written by Sara Fielder © Sept 2015