THE COWBOY
He's wonderin what he's doin there
holdin his tin cup tight
the north winds blowin hard
and the stars are shinin bright
He's thinkin of his past
the days of long ago
the fencin,the brandin,
and ridin the rodeos.
He remembers pushin those cattle
across the wide open plains
over mountains,thru valleys
and in all kinds of terrain.
Thru the heat and the sun
thru the cold and the snow
he kept pushin on
when others would have said no.
They made him the RANGEBOSS
because he never shirked a task
everyone said it was his job,
but it's the LEGACY of his past.
His name..... THE COWBOY.
© John Day
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
Monday, November 2, 2009
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