A Cowboy Is
A cowboy named Hank joined wagon trails going west on his horse
He rode the outskirts and back trails of cities in search of a home
He would get a piece of land for growing corn near a river’s source
That would ease his restless soul; put an end to all his groans
He recalled the squalor and filth seen in towns he had passed through
So many miles way back when; he had long since lost count
In his mind his plans stayed fresh; persevere was what to do
At each stop he carved the vision while filling his canteens at the fount
As for one regret-he could not read nor could barely write his name
He would teach himself come evenings, from Grandma’s 'Good Book'
Her legacy, tucked in his saddlebag; dusty, yet, still looked the same
She had raised him on her own when his folks passed on, with all it took
To him, success was the only way he could ever pay Grandma back
Vowed he’d find that land near a river, far from the railway tracks
~*~
For Tirzah Conway's, "A Cowboy is" Contest
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
