Gleeson Arizona

Gleeson, Arizona

I had been warned against going to Gleeson; something about dangerous locals, but decided to make the 20 mile trip. I departed Tombstone heading Northeast by dirt road for the ghost town marked by skull and crossbones on the map.

I came to a desert crossroads that seemed to be the place. There were no people in sight so I headed to a square building with a sign outside--Gleeson Bar. It was the only standing building in the town.

Having made no prior arrangements to interview anyone, I stood around in the empty bar and looked at the mural painted on the left wall. From a low right wall window, a square shaft of bright sunlight illuminated large dust particles and provided the only light in the dark bar.

A man appeared from a room behind the counter. "Would you like a cold beer," he said.

I thanked him and introduced myself. His name was Tuffy Pride and he had owned the bar for some time. His friend Dan Christensen, a local rancher, would be stopping by soon.

When Dan got there, we took our beers and sat out in the courtyard.

Tombstone Arizona

Rock Poet

Bart's wife

Amy

For Jim Clark

The Berwickshire hills are still at night
only the sound of sheep at dawn
carries on the wind

A young man wakes to tend his flock
the mist a drink for noonday sun
round and round the cloven hooves
Jimmy knew the sound of wind

Always called the green fields home
from near and many faraway shores
a winding canvas, he did weave
Jimmy went round the wind

A shy smile donned his face in light
every circuit knew him well
dreaming of rolling hills at night
Jimmy, who rode the wind