John Wayne at 30 Paces


18 Feb 2008






With sentence handed down,

the crowd gathered in the street.

The pistol, primed and loaded,

thrown at Ron’s feet.


Without hesitation,

without a thought or care,

barrel moved to his head

trigger pulled

but did not move a hair.


“No” the crowd shouted,

not what we came to see.

So John Wayne at this finest

marched out into the street.

A shootout at 30 paces

he had decided it would be.


With rifles picked and loaded

words between John and me.

“Sorry son to take you down

But way it got to be.”


The crowd gathered round again.

Lined both sides of the street.

Blood thirsty bunch just had to have

what they had come to see.


John, slow to position,

raised and fired.

But Ron never moved.

He knew it time to expire.


Blasted to the ground,

with blue sky above

and the smell of dirt below,

Ron uttered his last

and let this mortal coil go.


“Didn’t mean nothing”

Some heard him say

and that

with “John Wayne at 30 Paces”

is what is on his tombstone