His hat was cocked towards two,
His tongue stood still like high noon
While he stood in velvet shoe.
A turquoise scarf hid his jaw,
And silver edged his pistol.
He held his hands down by his hips
Without a word or whistle.
The honest folk turned towards the shops
Where on better days they dealt,
And every child, late at play,
Got drawn in like a belt.
The dusty stranger held his ground
As all the town receded.
Drunkards guessed his dark intent
And bartenders indeeded.
The Sheriff cloaked his gun and badge
And checked his empty cells.
The hangman tied a diamond hitch
While cowboys hid in wells.
Young Ladies slid toward shelter,
While sneaking brazen stares
And stallions tied to hitching posts
Nickered for their mares.
The banker, only, braved the man,
Rubbed his visor and he
Said "You must be a dreadful rogue
To dress so like a dandy."
