cowboys

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  • Life

    Poem Commentary

    In the 1960s and early 1970s I had the privilege of working on three family ranches in south central Wyoming. I worked on Lee McQuay's place, the Diamond Ranch and on Howard and Audrey Brokaw's 3 Circle Ranch. The 3 Circle is where I worked the longest. I started out working in the hay fields. Through the patience and tutelage of those I worked for, especially Howard Brokaw and his foreman Del Esquibel, I progressed to being a cowboy/ranch hand. Even in my youth, I knew that the Arlington-Mc Fadden Wyoming area, called "the valley," was a special place. I did not know then how much the people there would forever affect how I would live my life. "The valley" is a beacon that over 30 years later, still shines out to me.

    cowboys

    I’d see the cowboys
    spurs on
    lean as barbed wire
    stamping the dirt from their boots
    as they went through the door
    of the Round-up Bar
    sometimes leaving their horse
    standing in the back of a pick-up truck
    standing in that 3 legged hip shot stance
    that horses assume
    when they are content
    daydreaming
    waiting for tier rider
    their saddle cinched down
    onto the wooden slates
    surrounding them
    I’d see the cowboys
    in Mac’s Cafe
    the corners of their eyes
    permanently crinkled
    from squinting out the sun the wind
    the Wyoming snow
    and from smiling
    their faces tan like their saddles
    except where the edge of the bream of their cowboy hat
    stopped
    exposing an incongruous forehead
    that gleamed as white
    and frail looking
    as porcelain
    I’d smell the burnt sulphur
    from the kitchen matches
    that they’d drag on the backside
    of their copper riveted
    button up Levis
    or pop with a thumbnail
    bringing that small explosion up to their face
    to ignite their hand rolled smoke
    I was 12
    I became a cowboy
    semi
    but I rode with the best of them
    I treasure that time
    and those memories

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    Teardrops commented on cowboys

    02-07-2011

    I love all your stories of the life you have lead . One day would love to see a book with them all in it Marie

    Insideme commented on cowboys

    02-07-2011

    filled with some beautiful nostalgia of a time most cant even imagine......love it!

    train64

    02/07/2011

    Thank you. I was very fortunate to have been a young kid in Wyoming at that time..

    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    train64’s Poems (87)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
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    the memory 6
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