AN OL’ COWBOY’S LAST DRIVE
By Donna Penly I WOKE HERE IN TH’ SHADE OF TH’ BUNKHOUSE. RECKON THAT’S WHERE TH’ BOYS LAID ME AFTER OL’ RAMGER AN’ I HAD THAT AWFUL WRECK. IT WEREN’T RANGER’S FAULT – HE’S A GOOD AN’ STEADY A COWPONY AS EVER WALKED ON THIS EARTH. HE TRIED TO DUCK OUT OF TH’ PATH OF THAT OL’ BULL. BUT, I GUESS IT WAS MY FAULT TH’ BULL KINDA HAD US PENNED IN A CORNER OF THAT OL’ CATCH PEN WALL. THEN I KNOWED THERE WAS GONNA BE A WRECK AN’ THAT’S ABOUT ALL I KIN REMEMBER. OH, LORD, I SEEM TO BE BUNGED UP A BUNCH. I KIND OF RECOLLECT OL’ DOG PERKSOLL BEIN’ HERE SOMETIME, BUT DON’T SEE HIM OR HEAR HIM NOW. GUESS HE LIT BACK INTO’ TOWN. DOC’S ALWAYS BUSY PATCHIN’ UP FOLKS. I RECKON M’ LEG’S BROKE, MEBBE BOTH. CAN’T TELL ‘CAUSE I CAN’T FEEL ‘EM. TH’ BOYS KEEP WANDERIN’ BY, ASKIN’ ME HOW I FEEL, OR DO I NEED ANTHING. DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOIN’ ON – FUNNY LOOKS ON THEIR FACES. PUT MY HAND TO MY HEAD. BIG BANDAGE UP THERE. MUSTA LIT ON IT – THAT’S PROBABLY WHY I’M STILL HERE. HARD HEAD. HAD TO HAVE A HARD HEAD TO BE COWBOYIN’ ALL THESE LONG YEARS. RECKON I’M HURT BAD/ JUST HAD A HORRENDOUS THOUGHT – WHAT IF I’M HURT REALLY BAD – CAN’T COWBOY ANYMORE? OH, HELL, I ALWAYS GET BACK ON A HORSE, DON’T I? THOUGHTS RUNNIN’ ‘ROUND MY HEAD LIKE MUSTANGS ON A MESA. I CAIN’T HARDLY SEE ME IN TOWN CLERKIN’ AT SOME DRYGOODS STORE, OR PAINTIN’ FENCES OR SUCH AS THAT. DON’T WANT TO THINK THE WORST – BUT WHAT HAPPENS TO AN OL’ COWPOKE LIKE ME WHEN HE CAIN’T COWBOY NO MORE? NO, IT’LL NEVER HAPPEN TO ME. TOO TOUGH. BEEN PUNCHIN’ COWS SINCE I WAS 16. THERE’S OL’ SLIM LOOKIN’ AT ME FUNNY. DID I SAY SOMETHIN’, SLIM? NO, I’M FINE. JUST A LITTLE WOOZY AN’ TIRED. WHAT HAPPENED TO RANGER? DID SOMEBODY TAKE HIS SADDLE AND GEAR OFF? WHY DON’T YOU SAY SOMETHIN’, SLIM? NO, DON’T TELL ME I LOST TH’ BEST HORSE IN MY STRING! DON’T HAVE NO KIDS TO WORRY ABOUT. MAYBE I’LL GO BACK TO MISSOURI AND LOOK UP SOME OF MY KIN – LEAN TO LIVE A DIFFERENT KIND OF LIFE? OH, HELL, THAT DON’T SOUND NO GOOD, EITHER. BOYS, DON’T LOOK AT ME THAT WAY. YOU HEAR THAT SOUND? SOUNDS LIKE THE HERD IS ON THE MOVE. LOTS OF DUST AN’ SOUNDS OF HOOFBEATS. WHO ARE YOU? YOU’RE A MIGHTY PRETTY LITTLE THING? HOW DID SUCH A PERTY LITTLE LADY GET WAY OUT HERE ON TH’ RANGE? THAT’S A MIGHTY PRETTY OUTFIT YOU GOT ON, BUT WHAT’S THEM THINGS BEHIND YOU – IS THAT WINGS? SURE, I’LL COME WITH YA –YA SAY TH’ BIG BOSSMAN WANTS ME FOR A SPECIAL DRIVE? WELL, SHORE --WAIT A MINUTE – LET ME GATHER M’ GEAR. BYE, BOYS! I’M HEADIN’ OUT ON A BIG DRIVE!, AN’ THERE’S RANGER ALL SADDLED AN’ WAITIN’ FER ME. YAHOO! Copyright Protected
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AuthorDonna Penley is a Cowgirl Poet with deep Kansas roots who has been writing cowboy poetry for over twenty five years. She is a real Cowgirl and an ex-barrel racer. Archives
March 2017
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