bones lost to violence

blunt nailed waitress peered

out of window,

watching a white Ford side step

move through a channel

of fading snow,

engine abrupt in the silence

crawling on wet tires

behind the wheel

eyes filled with cluster of stars

that waited for him,

knew he would use rifle and pistols

lain on the passenger seat,

an older man ducked in through

a door from the sidewalk

anticipation filled centuries bones,

oak casket shadows lengthened

over street,

as to traffic signals and crossroads

paused muffler rumbling,

a man stepped out a short distance

ahead and raised a rifle

sounding with a quick report,

windshield shattered

ducking across seats,

other men appeared

bullets clattered and punctured metal

crawled out the door

and as a shield returned fire,

blunt nailed waitress

placed hand on stomach

with a soft flutter,

from the roof of the bank

rifle leveled

became a victim tumbling to asphalt

with rifle expended

took up the guns his grandfather wore,

tightening belt

histories confidence made him stand,

before drawing

bullet clipped his shoulder

wincing not falling

fanned the gun,

two others fell,

a voice shrieked stop

blunt nailed waitress

stood between them,

gunsmoke scented cold air,

it had to be resolved

but not this way,

for the sake of a child

conversation was born

dVersePoets