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The Spectator
founded 2004 by ron cruger
A place for intelligent writers
A place for intelligent readers
 by Laramie Boyd
Cowboy
Your comments about this column are welcome ~ e-mail Laramie at
ecrboyd@aol.com
2020 Spectator Ron - The Spectator All Rights Reserved
C
A cowboy stands by an old barn door,
Where once a herd of cattle trod.
And time left them its aging marks,
The cowboy, the barn, and they just nod.

But once the cowboy branded bawling calves,
And cut and ran mighty steers.
To him it seems just yesterday,
But was it, he wonders, that many years?

He'd like to break just one more paint, Rope a Mustang at full dead run.
But this old cowboy knows, it seems,
There'll be no more days in the long hot Sun.

Now his saddle hangs on the bunkhouse wall,
His spurs and chaps are put away.
He longs, as he leans, on the old barn door,
For, yes, just one more drive. It could be any day.