When Creation Was Young

Marvin Hass

Take me out to the edge of creation
Where the land and the rivers are wild
Let me see forever and…then some
To the place where God rested and smiled.

Show peaks that reach to the top of the world
Turning pink as they greet the new day
Help me feel the way that it certainly was
When the West was “The West” as they say.

 

Rebecca

a Sunday school teacher-1958
Kevin Heaton

Timelines tracked her face
like starched Sunday pleats.
She had the weathered-leather
look of a drive-weary trail boss,
and a drover’s payday grin

for a smile. Her rosy cheeks
baked south of truck farm
squint tracks like rouged
mesa knolls in drought; her
sleek iron skillet hair westing

 

The Legend of Hugh Glass

Bukaru

The Missouri rolls thru scattered shoals or breaks as known to thee;
Flowing south the breaks align to form a channel free;
Till past a town of some renown to merge with:
The Mississippi.
The gazette goin' roun' St Louis town placed a call forth with;
For mountain men trappers n' adventurous youth:
Of whom were all quite fit.

 

Standifered Steer

Bukaru

His name was J W Standifer.
And he was a hand fer a guy up in Jasper;
Wyoming ya know, a little east of Idaho.
And ya ought'a take note all you slow cowpokes;
Cuz' he's known fer an unnatural disaster.

See, the boss sent the word down the line;
This roundup'ta treat fer the mange.
Now Jay lacked the lye but what he had in supply;
Was some barrels of kerosene.
And with this oil he'd douse the cattle fer louse;
And he'd brand 'em at the very same time.

 

Outline Divine

Bukaru

Look, I said, mister, I never even kis’t ‘er,
And I was lookin’ him right in the eye.
But he was cryin,’ and I was lyin,’
And I felt lower than a snake is high.
She’s a quite a looker, a real honey pusher,
and that would explain his pain.
He’s been here before, he can’t show her the door;
And it’s driving him north of insane.

 

The Backward Poet

Clark Crouch

Sam, a backward cowboy poet,
was challenged by a curse
because each of the poems he wrote
wound up to be inverse.

A Boy's Dream

Clark Crouch

The dream of ev'ry boy, it seems,
is to be a cowboy,
ridin' free across this great land...
such dreams fill life with joy.

But boys don't know what life is like
out in this lonely land,
cattle. your only company,
and endless hills of sand.

 

Neal Lewing

Neal Lewing

Cowboy heart, like it says in the Bible,
Treats his sweetheart like an equal.
Nothing so hard as a job that’s simple.

He tends the cookfire, she sets the table,
She beds the younguns, he guards the stable.
Raise a little Cain, if he’s able.

Go to town, rein down,
Swing your partner ‘round and ‘round.
Denim bibs, gingham gown.

Jaw against a hitchrail, visit pals in jail,
His chin stubbled, her cheek, pale
With blush, atwinkle at his shirttail.

 

High-Tailin' Away

Clark Crouch

Bill is a good hand, much admired,
and works real hard, for shore.
His love's his lonely cowboy life,
a bachelor to the core.

He rode into town this mornin'
to drop some of his pay,
to have a drink and play some cards;
that was his usual way.

But then somethin' shore did happen
that spoiled his day of fun
because the last we seen of him
old Bill was on the run.

 

A Mid-Summer's Night Gunfight

Jason Hunt

Kyle William Lees roams the West with two guns
And a list of thirteen guilty men
They murdered his family and left him for dead,
Never dreaming they’d see him again

 

The Nod (for Frank Vincent Ortiz)

Martin Hill Ortiz