Rain On Porch

Grey clouds swollen with drops

surround a cabin deep in the woods

sitting on a

stool with coffee

he looks at as a gentle rain moves in

trying hard to forget a broken past

he raises his head and sees the lightning

cold air fills the porch

and then a chill

he goes inside to build a small fire

panes of glass the sky darkens

on the pines water pours and trickles

he sighs and thinks of his life

A banjo plays in his mind and lifts

his soul and washes away the pain

like the rain that is pouring from the sky

the orchestra beats upward and soothes

He goes back to the porch

and watches

the evening sun returning to its home

one of his dogs

raises his head and speaks

night comes very easy now and bathes him

The rain beats heavy now on the roof

from his view a transformation forms

a new determination to look forward

and never look back again

page 152-153 Cowboys and Witches by John K Bucher

From the Earth

In the Oklahoma Dust Bowl

My grandfather toiled

His back toward the sun

Diamondbacks coiled

Hard labor he knew

Even from his birth

Not destined for a bank

Or any kind of mirth

Loved to hunt and tell

Stories as he went

He looked you in the eye

Said what he meant

But the blessed earth is what

Drove him on and on

Cotton, corn and wheat

In the early dawn

The earth, plowed so

Fresh and brown

Seeds and water, till

The sun went down

Then came the harvest

The gathering, the sale

Another year of blessing

Another prayer prevails

His life from the earth

The only one he knew

He never owned a new car

Material things were few

He had to work when

He was old, still very proud

The earth he loved so much

Still spinning in the clouds

page 116-117 Cowboys and Witches by John K Bucher

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Yellow Roof

On thick clay tiles lay a man

A yellow sea in a far away land

Watching the sea he looks at the sky

A flock of birds descend and then goes high

He relaxes his thoughts reaching for a beer

The ships look tired as they draw near

He sips and shoos the buzzing of a fly

He wants a job but knows it’s a lie

The air is moist with beer and salt

A Hemingway afternoon down to a fault

On the beach two girls bathe in the surf

A man is selling fish knowing their worth

The trouble began in a much younger life

He used to have children, a home and a wife

Now only a saloon, a bed and the roof

He used to exist but now there’s no proof

But inside him there stirs a new sound

Maybe tomorrow from this roof I’ll come down

But until then I’ll drink and I’ll sleep

Yesterday’s gone and not even the angels will weep

Page 166 Cowboys and Witches by John K Bucher

Cowboys and Witches

Inside the Stanley Hotel

Here is an excerpt from the novella Foster’s Fall, found on page 47.

“My name is Chas, Mr. Tennenbaum told me to expect you.”

“Foster Everwinter.”

“You are our house detective, in charge of security?”

“Yes, at your service.”

“He has told you about the black peacocks?”

“Yes, he has.”

“Dreadful business. The entire staff is just sick over it. We are all very fond of them.”

“Who do you think is responsible?”

“A madman. It couldn’t be an animal.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t you know? They are locked up every night. Someone would have to unlock their barn and take them up into the woods.”

“An animal couldn’t manage it?”

“Not unless he has a key and walks upright.”

“It’s a riddle, I admit, but who would want to do such a thing?”

“Like I said, a madman.”

Cowboys and Witches, along with my other books are found on Amazon.com.