In better days you stood around the post office
With your cowboy boots and cowboy hat.
Wearing that perpetual smile and that nose
That red bulbous nose from drinking too much too long
When the call came that you died I thought back to that fall day
When you said we’d kick ass
And not to worry
Because we were winners
I dreamed about you last night, grandfather
Only in this red tinted land you ran never staying long in one spot
And running you cowered and hid under half fallen walls
Slamming old doors to buildings with no windows or roofs
I run along side you out of breath
In our moments from running you look skyward
Eyes darting from this place to that
And I see you are afraid
I ask why and you say, “Them”
Before I can ask who, we are running again
Ducking under broken tables and looking around darkened corners
Crawling on our elbows and knees and stopping and listening
Upon waking I wondered
What you could have done
To be in
Hell
