early mornings.
up before the sun
and as it comes up
it's arms reaching through the dust.
horses running
the thunder of their hooves
echoing through the valley
halters slip over velvet noses
hot breathe steamy
morning air
the remuda is ready
my view
groomed manes
saddles and low graceful heads
waiting for love
for work
my cowboys are busy
thier big hats bobbing around the yard
checking the list
and checking the list
in thier minds
kc jim yells from the barn
iced coffees?
maybe i should have never started
with this treat
it's time to go
fringes slap against leather
orders send dogs flying onto the truck
trailer doors slam
the favourite mom waves from the porch
driving in a humming dodge full of cowboys
it makes me tired
my hat lands on my knee
i'm asleep
a long line of dodge trucks
yells and neighs
spurs tinkling underneath the hustle
rough hands tie square knots
silk rags
my boots slip through worn armidas
cowboy after cowboy
gather around the boss
silhouetted against dusty mountains
his arm pointing
that corner
east side
bring the cattle around this way
i stay in the back
so i can inhale the picture
so many cowboys
thier big hats
ropes swinging
warming up
so many swishing tails
they talk
colts for sale in mountain view
paid too much for that one
they talk as they ride
the cows crowd past the trucks
dust
yells
fast pace
the fire is crackling
red hot branding irons
little girls standing on the side
thier hats way over thier ears
when they get big they will rope too
thier big eyes watch
her eyes get big and she tells me
"my daddy is the one with the big brown hat
he's the best cowboy
but he doesn't know how to train baby horses
but he's still the best cowboy"
she was a cute one
the boss yells
"bring em in"
we start swinging our ropes
bawling calves
singed hair
dust sticks to sweat
horses arch thier necks
pulling
head down
they deserve that green grass
grub in the garage
tables
mom throws old western horseman down
cowboys come in
rough
dirty
they talk more
eat food
pushing thier hats back rubbing thier faces
thier boots and spurs loud on the cement
thier laughter bouncing off the wood walls
a tip of thier hats
and a thanks
and thier gone
thier big dodge trucks churning the dust
the mountains are watching us.
i love you more.
xo, ginger.
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