A Cowboy's Journal
A Cowboy's Journal
By: Tom Wright
10/10/98
The old corral stands,
silver and smooth from no care.
From years of neglect,
in the crisp mountain air.
Earlier covered with frost
now black and wet from the thaw.
I saddled Sugar Foot, my Mustang,
then searched my vest for a chaw.
Finishing up with my Mustang,
I checked again old Jack.
He was packed out with water,
along with a full winters tack.
It is Molly's first pack trip
and her load fits like a glove.
Now, it's off to the Line Shack,
beyond the ridge top above.
Snow to Sugar Foots belly,
I had to ride through.
With ice frozen to my stirrups,
but what's a Cowboy to do.
I'll keep the fences mended,
even rounding up a stray.
and on cold winter nights,
keep the Wolves at bay.
Then alone at night,
by the fireplace I'll sit.
Listening to the fire talk,
while I whittle and spit.
As Christmas approached
I had myself a real treat.
For I bagged a big Elk
and had fresh camp meat.
Enough meat to last
beyond next springs thaw.
When I'll pack out my animals
and head back down the draw.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment