Tumbleweed by Scotty Prost Butch dug his spurs into his horse and she kicked up dust. "Giddy up!" he said. I was riding right behind him, but I was a much less capable rider. "Butch, could you wait up for me?" I asked. He didn't. I kicked my horse and tried to get her to move faster. She whinnied and bucked me off her. As I landed with my posterior in a mud puddle, Butch laughed. Then he kept riding. "Butch!" I shouted, "Wait up!" He didn't.

Unit testactivelike sparkling stars strewn across the night sky. their brilliance catching the corner of my eye, making me slow down, just to look at them a little longer. in my awe of the sheer beauty of merely broken glass, i couldn't but thinkhow someone else's tragedycould be so beautiful to me. source: t., jennifer. "irony." teen ink. teen ink, n. d. web. cjuly 2011.the poem is an example ofexternal conflictinternal conflictdramatic ironysituational ironymark this and returnsave and exitsubmit