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Cowboy Poetry and Western Verse
Stockyards
Douglas Polk
before the sun up,
kids would ride their bikes to the edge of town,
to see the cowboys,
working the stockyards,
sneaking up under the walkway,
peering between the planks of the corral,
they would listen to the stories,
and dream,
in a small pen,
horses tied along the side,
a campfire burned,
around it sat the cowboys awaiting the next herd,
they would sort the cattle from the sale barn,
and ship them on the next train or truck,
until the sun up and no more cattle to ship . . .
the stockyards at the edge of town are gone now,
the same with the sale barn,
trains never stop in town,
all that remains are the cowboys and the dreams.
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