Rabble Rousers Of Yesterday Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Rabble rousers of yesterday out on the desert for hours
every day, riding and rounding up cattle, doing their
job in a pleasurable way.

An easy-going atmosphere, one of work and ease when the
day is done, sitting by the campfire, cooking, eating,
guitars being plucked, guiding rhythms into the evening.

Serenading the moon and stars before finally going to
sleep on the ground, sleeping bags keeping cowboys warm,
nothing left but to dream until the sun comes up.