Time Was My Friend

I had made Time my hero and my god,
Summer was not complete without his presence.
Slyly fingering the six-gun that dangled at his side,
The bad man of the plains, the man whom posters
Advertised on every stump and broken fence,
I, sick of the intolerance of my masters,
Had made him sheriff in my idle dreams.

He it was who at that final moment
Flicked out his guns and shot away the rope
That tightened on my neck with obvious intent.
In trouble he was always with me, his bright eyes,
His straight sharp nose and his scar-twisted lip
Gave me the courage to spoil the neat surprise
My enemy, the black parson, had planned for me.

My god, my servant, was there at my beck
On his grey horse that had outrun the wind.
With him to cheer me on I always won my trick
For, no matter if my call was bad, I found the ace
I wanted, sprouting in my expectant hand;
At cards no man could see beyond his face.
Time was my hero and I trusted him.

Time was my friend, it served me right,
I never should have given him promotion.
He took advantage and just the other night
He stole the armor I kept against his boisterous jokes,
And when I protested, he, with a careless motion,
As swift and subtle as his own black snakes,
Drew both his guns and shot away my legs.
--Ruthven Todd
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Vishnu Temple (top)
outside Cremation Canyon (below)