we don't do it for the money.
it's for the lifestyle.
ropes swinging,
graceful around my heart.
I am wrapped in this.
caught in this.
the breeze tugging,
on my felt brim.
the painting between his ears,
colourful.
hands folded tidy on my saddle horn.
I watch the cow & calf walk away.
it's why I stayed.
it's why I am here on fishburn ranch.
to live. & to watch the love.
his strides long, we run.
hooves pounding in time with my heart.
then why am i crying?
i'm not sure.
the passion is winding itself deep.
screwing below the surface of this young heart.
the passion for my buckaroo life.
watching a cowboy ride his horse into the sunset.
the vaquero song playing soft on your mind.
the lonely canyon.
& my ponies, sleek & dancing.
wild horse heaven.
it's like being so very in love with my life,
that it pushes on sentimental buttons.
bringing tears of love.
which lead to tears of sadness for some reason.
i'm the only little girl.
the other cowboy kids have moved on.
finishing my childhood with a flourish of tears running down dusty cheeks.
but i'm still dancing in the moonlight.
you will hear me in the whisper of the tall grass.
you will see my eyes in those of the horses.
for i am holding this wild horse heaven close.
the sagebrush sea is rolling as far,
as my eye can see.
I awoke before the sun this morning.
& as it climbed with flames licking into the darkness, I felt overwhelmed.
overwhelmed with a burning nostalgia.
yet with love.
i roped this passion.
& I will never pop these dally's.
buckaroo pride.
the mountains are still watching - ginger.
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