A Cowboy's Letter Poem by James Edwards

The west was scarier than we thought
With your spotted courage
And my lil' heart.
We spent days a journeying
For just a nickel
Of their finest.
And what we found were
Footprints, mostly yours
Mostly honest.

They say you find no salt in their tears
That no cut is worty
And no friend is true.
But you held calmness in the wild
When I pulled the gun and shot
Whiskey.
And danced with the scars given
By no man.
Who kicked you with the boots
Of his soulless spurs.
And yet we still galloped.

They told us it was made for those who could
Not for men whose hat was too big
And horse unpure.
It was not for you, nor I, But
We still walked the paths
That hung of wanted men
We wanted to be.
And pictured the days that ladies
And children, ran in the herd
Searching for our Myth,
Singing our Legend.

They tried to take you away from me.
When my saddle was gone
My strength wrestled, my hat
Was down.
They let you go
To run with others and maybe
A real cowboy will make you
Lucky.
But no rope could keep you
From me.
As you stayed through the rain
And watched them cover dirt
Over my body.
Our Chapter.
Our Dreams.

The West will say we never was
That in the pages of ears
And the pens of tongues,
We lived between Wyatt and
Holliday.
But you and I know the sands a travelin'
Farther than they say.
To a place we once dreamt and never
Reached.
Nor Forgotten. Cause we're still here.
In the woods of your birth and my
Resurrection.


(To my Horse)