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C&I's Poem of the Week for 4/20/2011
He’s too stove up to swing a ketch rope,
Still waddles out amongst the crew,
And seldom starts in ‘bout the old days,
Unless some snot- nosed kid asks him to.
He “gathers” now days with the youngsters,
Lets them rope his boots for the heels.
While boys dream of jerk slack and dally,
He’s already lived how that feels.
Breathed deep through thousands of sunsets,
Tied on to most breeds of a cow.
Cheated death with a good horse and saddle,
While keeping his fingers somehow.
Must confess I’ve heard every story,
Each chapter that makes up his life.
From ropin’ the milk cow some evenings,
Through the months spent courtin’ his wife.
Tales about critters he laced as a youth,
One ‘bout this pig and a skunk on a bet,
Covered hundreds of miles mostly horseback,
Not one day's ride from the ranch as of yet.
Joked of grass stirrup deep…at the neighbors!
Heard him cuss at rains long overdue,
But smiled when he spoke of fall roundups,
Till before long…you wished it was you.
Couple fights between owners of cattle,
Drown out over women and booze,
Laughed about hours in the garden,
Even though his dear wife let him choose!
Christmases, weddings, and dances,
The outhouse…and a snow storm for days,
You’d think after all of that livin’,
A few facts would get lost in the haze.
Not him though, his memory is vaulted,
Priceless treasures locked safely inside,
Just open his vault with a question,
Then hang on, ‘cause you’re in for a ride!
A tear comes when he mentions his friend,
Life cut short before takin’ a wife.
That memory most days ends his talkin’,
And Ma says pert near ruined his life.
That stove- up old cowboy’s my idol,
Those rug rats are all his grandkids.
And from the first time I roped his boot heels,
I’ve been tryin’ to live like he did.
C&I's Poem of the Week for April 20, 2011. To submit your poems for consideration, please send them to mail@cowboysindians.com with "poetry" in the subject line. Selected entries will appear online.
