Howdy!
We got a little snow but it has warmed up a bit.
I finally realized that I was missing a bull so Cindy and I drove the place this morning trying to find him and hoping I wouldn’t find him dead somewhere. No luck.
So at noon, I started calling neighbors and found him on the second call. He’d been “visiting” but the neighbor must not have minded feeding him, as he never called to tell me he was there. So I ran the horses in and saddle up Beaver and went and got him. He really didn’t want to leave his new found buddies, but shoot! A little ol’ bull is no match for me and Beaver! LOL
He’s waiting in the corral with feed and water until morning when I will turn him back in with the ladies, seeing as there are a few fall calvers who might need to get bred so they can calve again next fall. He ought to enjoy their company.
I just finished a new poem and sent it off to Beth Ebert who is probably the best poet to ever live in this state and that includes Badger Clark, who was a hell of a poet. Beth is kind enough to critic my work for me and try and help me get it better. Poor lady!
She seem to think this one pasts muster, so I’ll put it on here. Let me know what you think, please.
I came up with the last verse of this poem years ago and tried to craft a poem around it, but was never satisfied. Must have the poetic juices flowing again, so I gave it another shot. I’m pretty happy with it. Hope you enjoy it
Specters
Others came before
with stories galore
before we rode these hills
With gumption and grit
too dry to spit
their lives a battle of wills
To try and overcome
not to succumb
to the perils that rule this land
They trod a hard road
carried a heavy load
but still thought their life was grand
You can feel their stares
as you ride unawares
yet never quite bring them in sight
Like a mote in your eye
or a raindrop that’s dry
or the breeze when a bird has took flight
They don’t mean to frighten
or even enlighten
those of us who pass this way
Just wish for the past
before the die was cast
when they too ruled the day
They lived this life
full of cowboy strife
fought blizzards, drought and fire
So they watch us close
as we take our daily dose
see if we are brave or a liar
They are proud of what we do
know that we are the few
who will attemp the cowmans trial
They’re the spectors of the plains
hanging onto the reins
they’re the legends who watch us and smile
Robert Dennis 2/07
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