Pistolero

He stares down the barrel of his gun into the eyes of his singing son knows they are only what they are lions lost in a sea of stars Will they remember, fathom when what was real and might have been a man's weapon just equal to a lifetime made and time undo Clearing leather, a whisper sound as death's intent and target found Children they are liquid See poured into a mold to be as lead and flight explosion sent youth intention contretemps The old man wears his weapon well its voice his life and come to tell A step aside, the mark and aim chaos, direction, all the same This time he rests his hammer down the choice to be his only found The young lion stands confused this brightest star and yet unused reads the death on his father's face clearing leather whisper embrace