watching his herd
fighting each virus
that threaten his words
your boots tap impatiently
under your desk
fenced in by your office
and the world wide web
but that's not where you mind is
a computer cowboy
a 21 inch screen
writing the programs
not living his dream
you climb in your pick-up
at the end of your day
want to shuck it all
just drive away
cause this is not where your heart is
your mind rides the range
when you're not punching keys
holding to reins
not hitting delete
your heart in the mountains
the saguaro call
the taste is sweet
and you savor it all
your time will come
your dreams will manifest
into a reality
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Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License