Hard Candy Cowboy

Debra G. Meyer

He wasn’t large in stature,
Couldn’t tell it by his walk.
His bobwire eyes could cut you,
Had no nonsense in his talk.

Some folks, they’d shy around him,
Cause he came off sorta gruff,
Made no bones ‘bout right ‘n wrong,
And he’d tell it to you rough.

His body bore the traces,
Of the trade he’d made his own,
He took up bronco bustin’,
When he wasn’t quite full-grown.

His hands was scarred and twisted,
Not a finger there was straight.
His legs was bowed and crooked,
Had a wobble in his gait.

He built a reputation,
Over forty years or so,
For turnin’ out good horses,
Both for workin’ and for show.

I sometimes came to watch him,
But took heed in what folks said.
“Stay out the way and quiet,
Or that man’ll have your head.”

The horses that they brung him,
Was the rankest ones to ride.
Most had been treated spiteful,
Wore the proof upon their hide.

I watched him with the horses,
He was tough, but not unkind.
He made the right choice easy,
So the wrong was left behind.

“These horses took their troubles,
Not from nature, but from man.”
His words were strong and steady,
“I just do the best I can.”

“I put the trust back in ‘em,
That another took away.”
I saw him stroke the forelock,
Of a little Arab bay.

A man’s soul can’t be hidden,
From the creatures in his care.
The horses knew the secret,
That the cowboy wouldn’t share.

I watched the cowboy workin’
And I quickly struck a thought,
I was thinkin’ bout hard candies,
That my mamma sometimes bought.

Their flavor was strawberry,
A right tasty sort of treat,
On the outside hard and sour,
But the inside’s soft and sweet.

That cowboy and them candies,
Both were filled with a surprise.
The hard and sour outside,
Was used only for disguise.