Monday, November 17 - "Found Poem"

Slow, stone hands looked out of shape and bent.
A gray-black cowboy slipped over his eyes.
Standing before us, he said in a voice that I could barely hear.
"Give it your best."
We got at it, but all the shots broke up.
Glued to time; right in front of a kid.
What was it?
I was determined to beat the man.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted it.
My finish was fantastic,
and I was grinning for the first time all day.