Each Man Follows His Own Trail

“Each man follows his own trail, but he rides it all alone,” Was what Free Will always said when he turned his horse toward home. But none of us knew it then, just how true those words would be, As we went about our business knee-deep in green grass sea. Few knew his name was William Preston – we called him Free Will— No cowboy was ever freer; no one quite fit the bill. He only slept under stars; his pillow was a saddle— His mattress was stone and earth; his alarm a snake rattle. None of us boys saw deeply into things that cowboy sowed— We saw a bent mustached gentleman with legs that were bowed. He said few words but when he did, they all came from the heart— And he always finished fist fights or feuds he did not start. Free Will rode down his own path and he always took the lead— Never afraid of nothing – be it bear or wild cat treed. And when his pards would let him down, he would smile and just groan: “Each man follows his own trail, but he rides it all alone.” The years went by and it appeared Free Will never did age, It seemed he kept his cowboy ways like mesquite and the sage. Never did he wed or own a house – things that tied you down, We called him “poke” and “ol’ cowboy,” but he still hung around. But then one day some suits stopped by and asked about taxes That Will, they say had never paid when he lived in Texas. They say he owned the IRS and had to go to jail— We knew it would just kill Free Will, so we all upped his bail. But Will refused and shook his head and said it was his pride, That long ago led him astray and no more would he hide. He thought he could slight the feds and pocket all those green bills— Then ride right out of Texas into the far distant hills. But as they snapped the cuffs on Will, he gave a little wink— “At my age they can’t cage me, I’ll be free before you think!” And next day sure enough, we heard the news down at the bar— How some old cowboy died en route while in a police car. It made us sad to think Free Will had rode that last sunset, Yet now we sit around the fire with words we can’t forget: “Each man follows his own trail, but he rides it all alone,” And that’s just what Free Will now did, riding that last trail home.