Page 277
By Jack Joseph Smith
Though she said it better
by taking off
It was like a best bread hoof
Went across my plainsmen mind
She said over the air in her voice
The star that shines for you
came and sent me to my feet
She had come to me
On my crutches
mistepping over the stoop of the tavern
Picked me up off the street
Engagement with her help
from the Black bar
Sent me to the train
Where there I saw her run away
Faster than the eye could see