Open Poetry #31 |
Out on the Range...Alone |
Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA |
The markings were Comanche- On the arrow in his back. It must have been a dozen braves, Judging from the tracks. Caught out on the caprock- Checking cows alone... Jack was a good cowpuncher, But now he's dead and gone. They didn't strip his body- He must have made a fight... They didn't mutilate him, I've seen some awful sights. The highest honor they can pay- Is leave a man his hair. He must have gone out gamely, Cause his is all still there. I met Jack back in '66- Both just back from the war. We sorta hung together- I never knew what for. He was tops at punchin' cattle, He could really fork a bronc. And he was right there with you, In any honky tonk. He said he came from Kansas But he never did say why... I wonder if they miss him? What a lonely way to die. The grave I dug was shallow, And I don't know how to pray... He never seemed to care a lot- For preaching, anyway. I guess I'll really miss him, It's hard to b'lieve he's gone- He died the way us cowboys live... Out on the range...alone. |
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© Copyright 2004 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
even the sad ones, I so enjoy your stories |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Nice writing...James |
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