The Hollow

Brisk wind
that blows through
leafless branches
in The Hollow, howl
a mournful cry.
While dark clouds roll
across sunless sky.
I peer with squinted eyes.

Rustling leaves sound
through wilderness
As my Pony snorts
from uneasiness.
His hot breath steamed
in the cold air.
My collar half covered
my frost nipped ears.

I heard the thunder
not of this Earth
I felt useless
of little worth.
With wide eyes
I peered through trees
The saddle rubbed
my shaking knees.

A loud drumming
pounded turf
energetic sound
of a fast paced heart
Appeared a black steed
in distant mist
I tried to turn my pony
but it rare'd and hissed.

I fell to the ground
with a heavy thud
sitting in wet
knee deep mud.
My pony bolted
in a frightened flee.
While the black steed
beared down on me.

It's neck outreached
with wild waving mane
The rider was driving
as if insane
A thrash of it's whip
while kicking the flank
Vigorously shaking
at the bit and the shank.

Cape whipping
with snapping sounds
as the fabric
cracked out loud.
This dark image
that grew closer
As I reached
for my holster.

I found it empty
and fear struck me
I searched through the mud
that was gritty and mucky.
A bellowing roar
came from the black steed
as it leaped
and rose above me.

Leather stretched girth
screeched under stress
As the horse sailed
then it's hooves rest.
An explosive sound came
as it touched down
Then the rider wheel'd
the Horse to turn around.

My fingers pinched
through the wet earth.
To find my pistol
rapidly they searched
Then they clutched
the hardened steel
Raising it till
the trigger I could feel.

Up before me
I pointed the gun
as the steed
was back to a run.
It's shoulder clipped me
trying to run me down.
Fire from the barrel
rang out a sound.

I shot the rider
dead in the chest
I saw the destruction
of part of it's vest.
As I fell
back in the mud.
Splashed and crashed
with a mighty thud.

I looked up
and saw my pursuer
and I swear
no words are truer
this horse's rider
had no head
I knew it must be
the living dead.

The horse was wild eye'd
of foam and lather
Black as night
fifteen hands or better.
Ridden by
a ghostly sight
there in the Hollow
on Halloween night.

The Rider was capped
up to it's collar
Even without a head
it screamed and hollered,
"Let no man dare
to cross the Hollow,
You must leave
and do not follow."

Then spun the Black steed
and galloped away.
I was spared
to tell of this day.
Needless to say
I did not follow
The Headless Horseman
down in The Hollow.