I heard the men with rifles shuffle the alley this morning. They wear white coats and have blue eyes. Let him out, one of them said. He leveled his gun at my chest. Let him out, another one said. His wrists were chapped pink.
The clops in the alley were mounted policemen's horses, tall, muscle-packed, a bit prancey. I rushed out to see what might have been, in 1872, the carriage horses being led back to the alley stables. The police wore blue coats and had dark skin, their guns were holstered, and they smiled.
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The clops in the alley were mounted policemen's horses, tall, muscle-packed, a bit prancey. I rushed out to see what might have been, in 1872, the carriage horses being led back to the alley stables. The police wore blue coats and had dark skin, their guns were holstered, and they smiled.
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