In 1948 western heroes rode
across screens so vivid I thought
they were behind them.
How could Roy be at the Capitol
and then at the Paramount later
Grammy would hold my hand
and buy us a popcorn at the
store next door to theater row.
Trigger was so large and golden
my eyes widened at the glow.
The mechanics don’t matter now.
The Capitol is gone, an empty lot
where Roy first held my gaze and
boyish heart. He still rides there
amidst the phantoms.