|
Cowboy Poetry
HISTORY REVEALED
Robert C. Atkin
I met him in nineteen-fifty-two
He'd turned a hundred and five years old
Sharp as a tack ; subtle dry wit
A keenness for stories he told
He was born in southern Missouri
Of Indian and Irish descent
A child of free-booters 'n' trappers
Nomads livin' out of a tent
He'd worked the boats on the river
Those majestic paddle-wheel queens
Befriended the ramblers 'n' gamblers
From St. Louis to New Orleans
The artisans and the courtesans
He knew them all by name
The high lifes and the low lifes
Those of infamy and those of fame
He'd beat the cadence for “ The Union”
In the war 'tween The Blue and Gray
Mustered out in sixty-five
And headed Montana way
He broke horses in The Dakotas
Hunted the great bison herds
Guided people through Indian lands
Learned the Sioux customs and words
He moseyed then up to Canada
As the turn of the century broke
Workin' the cattle up to the north
A legend 'mongst the other cowpokes
Then another battle came calling
That of W—W--One
Across the ocean he headed
To repress the surge of “ the hun”
But the love of his life was cowboyin'
And the freedom of the “Great Plains “
He cherished his skills as a horseman
Bragged of the cowboys he'd trained
His thoughts meandered to this and that
Each story prefaced with “This is true”
I listened closely with tongue in cheek
See I'd read the history books too
I'd visit with him once a week
He'd fill in the gaps that were missin'
Of wild west ways 'n' rodeo days
I'd sit there; imagine and listen
Last week I got a message
My old cowboy friend had died
I dealt with mixed emotions
“Tho life was short; he'd had a long ride
He left me his worldly possessions
Nothin' more than an old “steamer “ trunk
Was this to be a treasure trove
Or just an accumulation of meaningless junk
It was neat in no particular order
Filled with papers and letters and books
A box jammed with baubles and bangles
Another heavy with buttons 'n' coins 'n' hooks
Found discharge papers from the army
It gave my perspective a new slant
Dated in the year eighteen-sixty-five
And was signed by Ulysses S. Grant
There was a letter from Sam Clemons
In appreciation for his stories it said
He wouldn't use his real name
But would call him “ Tom Sawyer “ instead
A brief note from a Marshall
A message 'tween two old pards
Bill Hickock said he'd write later
'Cuz he was on his way to play cards
A picture autographed by Wyatt Earp
A bill from Doc Holiday
A dispatch from George Custer
Boasting how the Sioux would rue the day
A photo of him and Bill Cody
One of him and Sitting Bull on a hoss
A commendation for bravery
His name on the ' Victoria Cross “
A special poem written by “Service “
And signed real personal to him
A painting from dear friend Charles Russell
An original song by “ Montana Slim “
Letters 'n' postcards from all over
Championship spurs 'n' buckles 'n' such
Provin' friendship was invaluable
Ain't no such thing as havin' too much
One final note I will mention
It proved he was a cowboy all right
It said , “Thanks fer the ridin' lessons “
And was signed , ' Yours truly Pete Knight “
There lies the story of Windy Bob Doherty
Seems most of his “ tall tales “ were true
And I'll admit I doubted a bit
I figured he'd stretched quite a few
But he passed to me his legacy
'Cuz he knew I truly did care
'Bout frontier days 'n' old west ways
So he left me his treasures to share.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
