Relentless western rain pouring onto soupy gray lanes
horses and cars scare one another as the old world is shoved
aside by a new one
Teller’s emptying out – gone to the oil fields
money…the corrupter and killer of civilizations
(or at least the one he knew)
He nudges the paint pony onward
past the stores out of neighborhoods
very few horses in town anymore
cars, lots of the damn things
the rain peppers his face as he turns his collar up
dark blue horizons on the hills
Been here his whole cowboy life
all he knows
the wife died a few years back and the kids moved to the oil fields
money…lots of money
the old range hand tends to his herd…talks to them
opens the barn and feeds his livelihood as the sun sinks west
he sits on a bale and watches them eat and stick their mouths
into the water trough
be a full moon tonight
back when he was young he would drink and dance
at bar back in Teller when the moon got full
tonight just a fire and beans before
retiring and hoping for an old cowboy’s
dreams