“Willy James”
Coward is what they called him, and he wore it with some shame
He’d run a whole life from himself, this rambler Willy James.
He’d flown from his bride’s sweet caress, he’d left his infant son,
His world so wide he could not hide until his place was won.
Some men must roam, the peace of home, the warmth of crackling fire
Can’t warm their bones, they stand alone, with life all they desire.
So Willy James lit out one night to feed the beast inside,
Eyes black as coal, his gypsy soul could not long be denied.
He roamed over hill and prairie, the hunger in his eye.
The swagger born on a long lost morn still lived, I cannot lie.
He wandered into dry gulch towns, played cards at the saloon;
He cheated, drank, and always won, and next day slept till noon.
He stole from stores, made love to whores, and drank his whiskey straight
Until the barkeep had enough and showed old Will the gate.
But he could find no comfort, ‘cause a conscience must be fed,
And so Will roved ‘neath starry skies, wherever fancy led.
He stole from the local ranchers at night while others slept;
And for his sins and many crimes no shred of guilt he kept.
Instead he wore a little grin with a strange curl at the edge,
Bedded down ‘neath the Northern Nail, his pillow twisted sedge.
And so he lived for many years, if you can call that life;
His eyes welled up at thoughts of what he’d done to babe and wife.
Out here, ‘neath the Comanche moon, the wolf and owl his kin
His thoughts grew wise, and with new eyes, he saw that he had sinned.
And out there in the pecan grove, beneath the twisted limb
His tender thoughts were turned at last to what was done for him.
His own pap stayed, and never strayed, his whole life sacrifice;
The thought of that was humbling to Willy, once or twice.
He hummed his childhood lullaby, and knew that he’d been loved,
As ancient gods beyond the hills played ninepins up above.
And out beyond the farthest point that human eye can see
The planets all aligned themselves in perfect syzygy.
One mighty crash and cool rains lashed the lonely countryside
And thunder spoke to lightning stroke as Will broke down and cried.
He turned his head as reason fled, and not ten feet away
A rain-soaked lass all full of child who must have walked all day
Appeared, a vision summoned up from some enchanter’s spell,
Or some dark demon’s comely form to draw him down to Hell.
His better sense said run away, his heart said be a man,
But he knew peace would not be his, that only cowards ran.
The heavens poured down buckets, the rivers swelled and raged;
They jumped their banks; Will’s heart sank at the battle to be waged.
The trees writhed in twisted torment like a doomed galleon’s mast,
And Will’s mind swung to higher ground, where they’d be safe at last.
So over hill and dale they hied, but still the waters rose
And on the sad tale of his life Will heard the cover close.
His story had been written, and the quill at last run dry
Without one last chance to make good he knew he’d surely die.
The torrents of the river roared, its eddies swirled and sank
The water rose another foot and covered Willy’s shank
Great trees had toppled all about, the torrents swept them too;
The logjam spanned the river now, and Will knew what to do.
His terrified companion then let out a moan in fear;
The pangs of childbirth gripped her, and Will knew her time was near.
He grasped her hand, not one thing planned, a snarl played on his lip
And walked across on rolling logs, the young lass at his hip.
Beneath their feet, the logjam writhed, a serpent in death’s throes
And how they ever made their way across, God only knows,
As all about their miracle, the lightning flashed and struck
When six feet from the other side, old Will ran out of luck.
The logjam slipped, the pack broke up, their one chance ran away,
And deep down his regretful soul knew this was his last day.
The young girl cried, and he realized, three lives would end that night
Then he knew at last what must be done; he still could make it right.
Her time was near, and a little fear began to crowd his mind
He knew he’d have to be a man, and pay for life in kind.
Six feet of cold, black water to be crossed or sink beneath
So Will knelt down upon the logs and stretched, and bared his teeth.
The girl was struck with terror, she saw what old Will had planned
But where such love could come from was too young to understand.
Will’s knotted fingers clawed the muck, his body now her bridge
And though her heart was breaking, she must cross and climb the ridge.
