Round Up

In the early morning rain as the mist clings to the skin A lone rider rides seeking out the cattle on the range Miles upon miles of grassland to roam without his men Seeking the herd before the roundup begins. This year has not seen the rains come down So everything is like a dust bowl looking like desert His men were waiting back at the local town To see if the herd was ready for market. Across the prairie a lonely coyote howls As it sees the rider catering near The riders face takes on a deadly scowl Knowing the flock was very near. He slowly takes out his rife and fires a shot For one means many would be near by In one deadly aim the coyote he got Now the herd will be gathered in quick response. 8/19/12 .