This is a "cowboy poem" from the John R. Yaws collection of poetry. - poetheart 08/06/01
Ol' Leroy looked across the cab-said, "Jack, I've been a thinkin'"
I said,"Leroy, don't go talkin' that away!
It's cost us dadburn near as much trouble as your drinkin'
We durn shore don't need no more fines to pay!"
Said, "What I think we need to do, is find another livin'
This cowboy life ain't what it used to be-
It seems that we ain't gettin' back, e'en half of what we's givin-
And just last month we both turned forty three.Jack, I guess that neither one of us has got a callin'
Cept breaking broncs and workin some man's cows-
The music that we love the most is hearin' cattle bawlin'
That's close to Heaven as this life allows.I feel stove up when I roll out on these old frosty mornin's
And topping off gets harder all the time-
My belly churns to smell the stink, at brandin's and dehornin's
My cowboy skills have kinda lost their shine.I said, "Leroy, you start doin this each time you get hung over-
We've thirty miles to drive back to the ranch.
Your mind'll change when we begin to smell the meadow clover-
You couldn't quit if you was give the chance."There ain't no other way of life, for guys like me and Leroy-
We've both the name of bein' a top hand-
Until we play our string out, somewhere up on the rimrock-
I guess we'll keep on ridin' for the brand.
by John R. Yaws