lodged in some tumbleweed
somewhere a hatless cowboy
must be in urgent need
the western sun relentless
upon his sweating brow
burning the tenderness of the face
unless he's in shadowed boughs
this poor hat saw better days
it's dirty from blowing around
the band is missing, the brim has holes
from bumping along the ground
where are you cowboy? I have your hat
I will keep it here for you
mount your horse and ride due west
it's in the valley you'll ride through
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
1 comment:
Thank ya ma'am. Hang on to that hat! With a little brushin-off, it'll be ready for the dance hall!
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