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Show I've seen many changes. Free range didn't last and old-time cowpokes are a thing of the past. That "open frontier" is all fenced up and tame and cowboys today play a far different game. Like one dude I know with four kids and a wife, he never roped anything wild in his life. He has a fine horse with a white speckled rump that he rides as far as the new city dump. Or maybe this dude with the bright shirt and frills who rides his old paint in the Navajo hills, His lariat tied to a back saddle string and never been known to rope anything. His biggest thrills are the girls he has kissed. He never will know what a real thrill he's missed- The challenge of hardships... The glory of strife! Ah yes, he has missed a most colorful life. Since wire fence and horse laws I've drifted to town and most of my riding I do sitting down Inside the nice cab of my Chevrolet truck- My horse in the back, just in case I get stuck With some little job like de-horning a steer or doctoring cows who have ticks in an ear. I'm home every night to a soft comfy bed with pillows and feathers to ease my old head. I'm too old for work and I'm too young for death but long as I'm livin' and drawin' a breath I'll find new contentment and challenge the strife of trying to live out a colorful life... And that I will do just as long as I'm able to drag my old butt to a chair at the table And still read the spots on a new poker deck Ain't that a most colorful livin', by heck? F. Allan Brewer 0, ls>?^&€*J 54 Cowboy Poetry From Utah |