A small article caught my eye

That said he was gone

After so many years of silence

Back in a cupboard of forgotten space

I sought the memory

And found it

A white cup full of the dust

Of childhood

He was still there

On the side wearing the painted smile

And dark hat

With Hopalong Cassidy written

In magical rope

Searching for memories

I walked through endless corridors

Searching each shelf

Until I found the place

I stored those hours

Before the screen when he was King

And, I, too, was a cowboy

With a stick horse and a cap pistol

I blew the dust from the cup

And filled it again with milk

Sitting before the blank screen

I blew the dust from Hopalong

And waited for the sunset

Michael F. Mathews

       4 May 73