He was out of the chute, with a buck and a boot; my spurs rakin his hide. He gave a loud snort and brought me up short and shook everything down inside me. I was trying to hang on, as he jarred my tail bone and I thought I surely will die; when he twisted left, I visualized my death and the funeral with which they'd surprise me.
Six gallant Cowboys would carry my box; for which I would ever be laid. A pretty young maiden with hair like a raven, would weep at the end of my grave. Surely someone I knew would sang a sad tune about my youth that had ended too soon.
As I reveled in that thought, that hoss took a bolt and I felt myself in the dirt. I was still intact, with a badly aching back; and the trepidation of getting back on. I only needed eight, straight outta the gate. But I'd only lasted for five. I dusted my jeans, as I left the ring; then I sat down and dang near cried.
Six gallant Cowboys would carry my box; for which I would ever be laid. A pretty young maiden with hair like a raven, would weep at the end of my grave. Surely someone I knew would sang a sad tune about my youth that had ended too soon.
As I reveled in that thought, that hoss took a bolt and I felt myself in the dirt. I was still intact, with a badly aching back; and the trepidation of getting back on. I only needed eight, straight outta the gate. But I'd only lasted for five. I dusted my jeans, as I left the ring; then I sat down and dang near cried.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteWow, baby, your writing gets better every time I read another poem that you write. I know you will always be a cowboy at heart and I know you have always loved the Rodeo. Maybe one day I can take you, sure would love to do that. I know you could stay on for the whole 8 minutes, better than the cowboy you wrote about. Great and totally fabulous job! It makes me want to go to the Rodeo myself, actually, I know it would be a blast with you <3
ReplyDelete