View from the seat of a Texas saddle

The trail dust was heavy filling his eyes, ears,
and throat until it was grainy and raw.
Swallowing and sucking at the little bit of saliva
had now become a hard earned pleasure.
Old Dan was tired from the old cowboy pushing him to cover
a few more miles before calling it a day.
The sun was sinking in the cloud filled blue gray sky,
but still way Texas hot!
The creaking of the leather saddle
under his new found heavy weight,
Made him realize that he had been around
longer than the creek bank dirt.
The aches and pains in his neck
and back reminded him of the bad spills,
the time the horse he was breaking
got away from him and punched a big hoof
in the middle of his back.
But, hell, he could still rope and ride
with the best of the young ones.
And, he had the spread to think of...
Good horses, sturdy cattle, clean house,
safe place to sleep, tasty food, clear stream,
old friends, new acquaintances, and his woman!
She'd be waiting on the porch to hear
the hoof beats coming through the gate!
Announcing with each clippity-clop, "I'm home again!"
Somehow, she always knew it was him
without ever looking out the sparkling kitchen window.
She could feel it in her heart first,
and then in her mind, and then in all those
other places his coming home touched.
He chuckled as he envisioned the slow smile spreading
across her face in welcome
in that special way reserved only for him.
The sparkle in her eye let him know
that more than a good meal and a clean bed
awaited his return.
She had been missing him bad...
...that was evident from the way she would
throw her arms around him in that long bear hug
and then walk toward the house
with her arm linked securely in his arm.
The cool inviting stream beckoned to him
to pull up here in the little clearing
for the campfire meal and a little shut eye
before going the final day tomorrow.
With wild abandon, he stripped off his dirty
trail encrusted clothes and walked into the water.
Age, dirt, tiredness, bad decisions, bad company, and bad
memories quickly washed away in the cool, clear water.
The water was deep enough for him to swim in
and that he did while his clothes dried on a rock.
All he saw now was the sinking orange ball
that had hours ago been the hot sun
beaing down on him and Old Dan.
Sun and wind dried, he put on his almost dry clothes
and set about to make his fire for the night.
Brewed some strong black coffee
and searched for the last of his provisions to eat.
As the fire was dying down, and with a full stomach,
he glanced back up at the sky which had now made its way to a pale shade of navy.
He saw the first silver twinkling of night stars
as they nestled in the Heavens.
Unrolled his blanket with years of experience on his side, banked the fire, surveyed the area one last time,
and made sure Old Dan was safe for the night.
Eased his big old tired frame down
to the soft earth and did not remember
pulling the cover around him.
Seemed to him like only minutes,
but hours passed while his tired body rested.
First stirring of light and dawn hit him full in the face.
The old cowboy fixed more coffee and something to eat,
scattered the ashes, and fed and watered Old Dan,
as they had their usual morning conversation.
"Going home, today, Dan, finished our business,
closed the deal, and made some pocket change."
Rode hard, but not hard enough to wear out Old Dan,
made good time, and knew his land was just over
the next little rise.
As the spread came into view,
he saw land that his Grandfather had fought for and won,
land that his own Dad had turned around
and made profitable.
More land had been bought, new cattle brought in,
horses broken and added to the corrals, railroads
were built, Texas oil was found, and money was made.
As the old cowboy rode along his own fence row,
he realized again how very blessed
he’d been to choose right the first time,
to live off of and on the land, his land,
to find simple abundance in tending his animals,
planting his crops, visiting with his neighbors,
sitting on his own front porch,
fishing in his stream, and feeling that giant
rush of pure contentment.
"Must be gettng older," he thought, as he
rode Old Dan the last few miles of the way.
He smiled as he remembered the women who'd loved him,
and the only one he'd chosen.
He thought about friends he'd protected,
and those who had stuck by him.
He considered deeds that he'd done
that made things worse,
and those that he'd done that had made things better.
All in all, he finally decided,
from his seat in the saddle,
that he had better than broke even
in this thing called life!
And, he knew in his heart that there was no other
way of life for him other than cowboying,
He would do it till he died!




Brenda Cannon Henley
May 30, 2002
for Dave Clemens, one of the last true old Texas cowboys
brendacannonhenley@yahoo.com
(409)781-8788