TH’ REPORTER & TH’ GUNFIGHT
By Donna Penley
In th’ musty, inky little office on th’ edge of town,
Wiped his hands on his apron an’turned around –
T’ face th’ press he’d been workin’ at.
Then took off his apron an’ donned his hat.
With pencil an’ pad clutched in his hand
He sallied forth to canvass th’ land.
Just lately news had been hard t’ come by,
But t’ make th’ news interestin’, he did try.
He stepped out th’ door, looked up th’ dry street.
Th’ local Sheriff was th’ first he did meet;
“Anythin’ cookin’?”, th’ reporter asked.
Th’ lawman just shrugged, his face a blank mask.
There was somethin’ brewin’, he surely could tell;
If he opened up, it’d be printed, sure as hell!
Th’ Clanton’s was lurkin’ just outside o’ town.
Th’ night before they’d been slinkin’ around.
Had been seen in th’ saloon over on th’ east side;
One cowpoke had nearly lost his hide;
Talkin’ through booze had near done him in.
But, th’ cowpoke’d been lucky. Had a lot o’ friends!
His friends, they had back ‘im and th’ Clanton’s had gone,
But th’ Deputy knew it wasn’t near done.
“You’ll let me know, won’t ya, Wyatt, if somethin’s afoot?”,
Asked th’ reporter as he wrote in his book.
“You betcha I will!”, ol’ Wyatt replied.
An’ Wyatt Earp knew darn well that he’d lied;
He turned, tipped his hat, made a chucklin’ sound.
Th’ reporter thanked ‘im an’ went on his rounds.
Tombstone as a town wasn’t much fer looks,
But was later immortalized in th’ history books,
Th’ newspaper reporter got his story that day.
Blew it outa proportion, a feller might say!
For th’ gunfight that was about t’ erupt.
At th’ OK Corral. It ended abrupt!!
Th’ Clanton’s never stood a snowball’s chance.
For, Wyatt an’ his brother made ‘em dance.
An’ even after all th’ gunsmoke cleared –
Th’ gunfight at th’ OK still echoes through th’ years.
Donna Penley is a Cowgirl Poet with deep Kansas roots who has been writing cowboy poetry for over twenty five years. She is a real Cowgirl and an ex-barrel racer.
Donna on wheel of fortune game show