Death of the Old Cowboy On the Lonesome Range
Death Of The Old Cowboy On The Lonesome Range
Ravenous wolf pack, ripping and tearing
red-stain bloody meat from his dead horse flank
much better the dead horse than me he thought
as he looked up at hot sun glaring.
Dreaming now, his beautiful gal holding tight
aching head laid in her luxurious lap
mused what sorry cowboy sight this is
an old cowboy sho gonna die tonight.
Then waking again, he was fine alright
that June morn was sure so fine to behold
again that pretty gal rushed to him
saying, dear cowboy ain't you such good sight.
Sleep, a gentler sleep all he would need.
Asleep he fell and then to death he bleeds.
Robert J. Lindley, sonnet
April 2nd, 1971
Note- This has been written after my watching
the cowboy save the pretty girl, but then he died
from fighting of Apache braves for two days.
His guns empty, his heart and dreams took over
to ease him beyond the deep purple veil.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2023
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