Cowboy

He crawled from his bunk stifling a hearty yawn. His work began each day at the very crack of dawn. He donned his jeans, chaps and old slouch hat, Pulled on his cowboy boots and strapped on his gat! He downed a bowl of Cheerios which was his usual fare, Then mounted old Dan, his trusty cayuse, with habitual flair! He coiled his riata as he sat there leisurely astradddle. 'Twould be another hot, dusty day in his well-worn saddle. His first task was to patrol the miles of barbed wire fences, Over the rolling plain of his spread's wide expanses. Then there were the dogies to herd to the waiting corral, There to be branded in that familiar, chaotic locale! Pausing at noon 'neath a shade for much-needed relief, The cook fed him biscuits, beans and some roasted beef. Then back in the saddle as old Dan he gently spurred, To continue rounding up his frenzied, wide-spread herd! It had been a tiring day riding over hill and vale. Now he and old Dan headed home along the moonlit trail. The five-year old cowpoke awoke from his dream-filled nap. Such a grueling trail it had been for that hardy little chap! Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)