To An Unknown Wagonner Poem by Kevin Cox

Your horse brought you into town.
He was thirsty and hungry.
He didn't have a brand.

You were dead
Slumped over the wagon seat;
The reins still slack in your frozen hands.

Your wagon was empty;
There was no way to tell
Where you came from
Or where you were going.

We called the undertaker
From the next town up the line.
We had to thaw out your body
To fit you into the cheap wood coffin.

There were no papers in your pockets
Just a tobacco pouch, rolling papers
And an old harmonica
We dug a grave for you

Six feet down through frozen, rocky soil.
We made a simple stone headstone for you;
'To an Unknown Wagoner, January 31,1889

The parson said a prayer for you,
And for your family.
No one has ever come looking for you.

We laid you to rest that day.
And gave your wagon and horse
To the undertaker.