Peter Pan's shadow
In equine form
Its crisp outline undulating
In sync with
Soft clop rhythms
Umbral-blue changeling
Dancing across
Cracked, parched soil
Borne into being
By spontaneous awareness
And self-determination
I herded cattle
On a handful of occasions
Just a bright sprite, flitting
Amongst sun-weathered men
Incessant chirping elicited
Low growl rumbling; Akin to
An overly enthusiastic chickadee
Pestering old farm dogs
Busy surveying their
Wayward poultry wards
Western saddles are designed
To keep you comfortably seated
Worn leather dais elevates
Overseers; whistle cues
Directing their bovine subjects
Towards fresh pasture
Sunset brings much needed respite
A chance to shift and stretch
Aching rumps, lower backs
Our beds were
Sweat-sour saddle pads
Embroidered by shed horse hair
From adventures past
Night drew a circle around us
Men of few words set aside silence
Voices hoarse from disuse
Brought to life outlaw fairytales
To enthral their fireside supplicants
Sunrise comes early
Fuchsia skies alight
Unimpeded by any tree line
Heralding the first pot of coffee
Perfumed profusion
Complex scents interweaving
Bright, golden grassland molecules
Punctuated by low notes of
Signature livestock odours
Here is the place where
Mind may wander freely
Without judgement
Or condemnation
Chronos holds no power
Over this sacred schedule
Kairos time effortlessly cueing
When it’s time to giddyup
This way of life has all but disappeared
Stolen by unrelenting progress
Take me back to
Flicking glossy haunches
Braided rein’s whisper touch
Ready for my canter jumpstart
Flight sequence engaged
Feet firmly sewn to
My faithful silhouette
Dust devils blow
Pixie dust into my nostrils
To Neverland we go
Beyond horizon's gaze
Flying beyond the land
Of the living skies
About the Creator
Aspen Marie
In love with life and all of its foibles.
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Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
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I was out there, loving the cowboy life. I love that image of you as s child, flitting about, chirping. It took me back to my own days as a kid on a farm.
Ah, this felt so liberating! Loved it so much!