May 3, 2016
“So you want to be a cowboy?”
That old man asks of me.
“You don’t look quite as crazy
As I think you’ll need to be.”
He stood there for a moment
like he had more to say
Then he shrugged his shoulders,
And he turned and walked away.
“What’s he know?” I ask myself.
He’s just an old sad sack.
“Sunsets, open range, and horseback rides.
What’s crazy about that?”
I hired on, and soon found out
My dreams were all askew.
Sunsets to a cowboy
Is just something you work through.
The open range was filled with bugs.
It was dusty, dry, and hot.
And the horses in the string I drew
All liked to buck a lot.
The cows were hard to gather.
They were wild, mean, and tough.
The country side was brushy,
It was rocky, steep and rough.
I was disillusioned.
And it grew each passing day.
I really thought I’d had enough
When I saw my meager pay.
I kinda hit a low point
Reality had hit
But I couldn’t walk away just now.
I had more try than quit.
I’m not quite sure what kept me there.
Perhaps it was my pride.
But the horses seemed to settle down
The more I learned to ride.
The cattle seemed to calm down too.
As I learned more of their ways.
And sunsets seemed more beautiful
After those long hard days.
This way of life had hooked me.
Now that I’d had a taste.
And any other line of work
Now seemed like such a waste.
I ran into that old man again.
At a branding in the spring.
He saw me in my boots, and spurs.
He said “you're crazier then you seemed.”
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