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Cowboy Poetry
LEFT OVERS
Robert C. Atkin
Green lakes of buffalo wallows
Lie still on a short grass plain
Ghostly sentinels of soddies
Try not to crumble; but in vain
Succumb to the elements
Wind and rain tear them asunder
Are these voices from the past?
We hear in rolling thunder
The trails of our ancestors
Are now obscured from view
Marked by brief indentations
Oh yes; a broken wheel or two
Goliaths that once were saplings
Now reach up to touch the sky
Standing there with great wisdom
With knowledge of days gone by
But oh: there are others
Legends from days of yore
Great tribes who roamed these prairies
Many moons before
They too; have left their markers
Upon the “Great Plain“ ground
Not only of things tangible
But of legends handed down
Whether writings in history books
Or graphics etched on hide
We need all these artifacts
To help and be our guide
A guide to help us identify
A guide so we can live and learn
That we can cherish what we have
And leave something in return.
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