Prairie Winds

Prairie Winds

I never cared much for corrals

Or blind canyons.

I have a taste for open range

Being a bit of a mustang.

The only rope I can stand

Is the one looped

Over the pommel

Purposed for the take down.

I’ll take trail dust over star dust

Give me the westering sun

And the tall shadows

Of ancient trees.

Let any legacy I leave

Be in the prints I lay down.

Let my words be few

And carved in prairie winds.