Cowboy

Often times I dream of days gone past - Although, I've not lived then - Neither saddle or horse shoe cast: Where was he when I first envisioned the outline of his long, hatted figure? Atop a horse named, "Fourth of July" - Montana perhaps or Wyoming is where he lingered...for a time. Long since dormant, there remains only tattered images of a dusty saddle horn, bent buckles, a frayed lasso hidden under some felled and hollowed out oak, that still rustles with callused sounding boots of cowboys retiring, still wet with the days cattle drive, sore and worn out talks of how they could have been with the perfumed, bustled women of their otherwise, ordinary youth. 5/7/2014