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Cowboy Poetry
THE LONG TRAIL HOME
Robert C. Atkin
The whispering white crept through the night
The cold gnawed right to the bone
The eerie hue of cobalt blue
Gave shadows a life all their own
The rider 'n' horse stayed their course
Ice drooped from bridal and brim
While waves of snow continued to grow
Making trails become heavy and dim
Vapors were streamin' 'n' lungs were a screamin'
Icy spears penetrated inside
Limbs paid the cost as fingers of frost
Gave the warmth no place to hide
Forward they surged and soon emerged
In a labyrinth of pine scented bough
A welcome respite from the hellish cold night
Where the norther continued to howl
Out of the weather he unhitched the leather
And with branches he made a soft bed
His thirst was slaked from melting snow flakes
The warming flakes danced; orange and red
Another dusk another dawn the storm raged on
A savege; but somehow hypnotic symphony
A wild moan and a whistle that made life bristle
Entombed all; in that white canopy
The winter is passed; it's spring at last
Summer's heat has made it's yearly call
And nights become longer; winds semm to get stronger
Caressing trees and leaves start to fall
Old Sol in the sky marks years passing by
A century has soon come and gone
A bible's pages have yellowed through ages
Listing those born and those who've passed on
A blurred entry remarked on page three
Of a great grandfather missing along the way
Never resolved and this mystery unsolved
Puzzles all to this very day
In a thicket of pine grown up over time
Rest the bones of a horse and rider unknown
And in the cold of December folks pause to remember
A cowboy who didn't get home.
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