Yesterday’s Outlaws

I had a call the other day from an old friend of mine. Here is what he had to say to end the call; and then there are the thoughts that later came to mind.

“I have to go now my old friend

I hear the sound of rain

And we have washing on the line

So I’ll call you back again.”

Whatever happened to yesterday’s outlaws?

Those denim-clad sometimes-bad

old friends of mine?

They’re not out in the bars

or picking guitars

and the bourbon

has turned

into wine.


Whatever happened to yesterday’s outlaws?

Those night-owling moon-howling

friends at my side?

They’re not singing along

to sad country songs

and their lovers

have turned

into brides.


I know what’s happened to yesterday’s outlaws

those once-raging now-ageing

good friends and fast.

They’re not out burning candles

just too hot to handle

because they’ve found


at last.

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