I remember buying a rubber band gun,
One trip, when we went out West.
Shapely, like a Colt 45, just the thing
To occupy a boy's interest.
The two barrels didn't get pointed too much
At my sister, not as I recall.
Which is a wonder, in a way!
Because I was sometimes awful,
Teasing her to get a squawk.
Instead I pointed at the unmoving:
Trees, signs and the odd rock,
Off which there were plenty
Along those highways going up
Stretching towards the Rockies,
And on over the top.
3 comments:
Think your sister was happy she was never the target :)
Ah those were the days, riding the open range on your bronco or mustang with your trusty sidearm to protect you.
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