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Poem

An Old Cowboy's Thunder

I stopped at a bar with a big neon star,
And looked for a seat in the crowd. 
I saw a grizzled old gent who looked pretty spent. 
He sat alone at a table, tall and proud. 
 
I said "Pardon me, sir, this place is a blur, 
Do you mind if I pull up a chair?" 
He said, "Join me, my friend, an elbow we'll  bend, 
And talk about things we may share." 
 
I judged him four score, but he could have been more,
And he'd cowboyed all over the West. 
His face was like leather from the sun and the weather.
There was a poet's heart under that vest.

8/16/2016


As he told of a time that stood out in his mind,
A huge cowboy walked in through the door. 
He was broad shouldered and lean and looked kinda mean, 
Like he wanted to settle a score.

When he spotted our place he set a smirk on his face
And dragged up a chair and sat down. 
He said, "If you don’t mind, this place is all mine.
Go sit somewhere else in this town!"

 Well, the old man just grinned while he scratched at his chin,
Like he'd seen this movie before.
He just sort of rose and broke the cowboy’s nose
With a left that came up from the floor.
 
Then he hit him with a bottle that was goin' full throttle
And left him sprawled out by the table.
He sat down with a sigh and wondered just why
Folks will take on more than they’re able.
 
Well, I left there that night with a different insight
On just what might be true of Old Men.
Look beyond what is pale and seems ever so frail,
And just imagine where that old man has been

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