On the third day of our Poem-A-Day challenge, we find ourselves saddled with the prompt: cowboy. When we think of cowboys, we often think of the wild west, the romance of riding toward the sunset, gunslingers and herding the cattle. Rustle up whatever images come to your mind. Let the cowboy infuse your muse!
THE COWBOY ALONE
Out in the wide open spaces,
a place that the cowboy calls home,
he rides through the plains and the mountains.
To an unknown location he roams.
To some, he might seem like a drifter.
To some, he’s a scary, old man.
But the cowboy has lived several lifetimes
with the aimlessness part of his plan.
For the cowboy has always been better
with his stallion, his heart and his gun
in the battles that somehow escaped him,
and that battles he artfully won,
than he ever would be in the city
where society’s habits seem strange.
So he rides all alone on the prairie
and he rides all alone on the range.
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All the romantic notions
He cannot fathom at all
The sunset’s campfires and horses
The plains and mountains all
It just doesn’t compute
In his head now old and lined
His face shows every crevice
His hands show all the time
He sits down in the saddle
Soak through with the rain
And prays that daylight brings
The sunshine to the plain
Cause being the cowboy of today
He just cannot equate
With any Italian Western
Or romantic poet’s fate.
Standing there in tight denims,
thumbs hooked in his pockets,
eyeing the girls walking by,
the cowboy passed out a smile
here, there and everywhere
and even a wink or two,
hoping they would notice
this well dressed buckaroo,
prancing at the gate to
the pasture behind him.
Because his “bull” was so prolific
and he thought himself terrific,
he noticed not the jaunty stud
behind him, until the horns
connected with his rear
and sent him flying.
And all the girls laughed so hard
they thought that they were dying.
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