Ride the Western Winds, Part Ii
...Eventually his lost child
grew up and turned eighteen,
and his ex-wife wed a doctor,
to whom she could be mean.
Bob finally had some life back,
but just about that time
his mother was put in a home,
Alzheimer's claimed her mind.
The care was hugely expensive,
and much to his chagrin,
she hadn’t saved a single cent…
so much for western winds.
He was fifty-three when she passed,
stress had taken its toll,
he worked and slept and not much else,
his every joint felt old.
With nothing left to hold him there,
and tightness in his chest,
he booked a week-long riding trip,
finally made it west.
He’d been riding for but two days
when his vision went dim,
clutched his heart and fell from his horse,
while riding western winds.
I saw it all, was his trail guide,
heard the man’s last words.
He said to bury him nearby,
it sounded quite absurd.
But knowing how long he’d waited
to ride the wild trails,
I relayed his words to a judge,
and finally prevailed.
We buried him out on that spot,
and though it seems quite grim,
I smile ’cause in the next world
Bob rides those western winds.
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