Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #140
The Cowhands Danced
by Belinda Roddie
The cowhands danced beside the cacti as
the desert sun dipped lower in the sky,
the heat clinging to the brims of the hats
that each cowgirl and cowboy wore. The eye
of the moon kept watch as horizons dimmed,
and soon, guitars, banjos, and ukes were strummed
as some old ranchers sang of stories grim
while others drank cold whiskey to stay numbed.
One cowgirl told a tall tale of the past,
about a bronco working in the South
with cattle herds whose giant shadows cast
a majestic darkness across the mouth
of the Grand Canyon. Later, some hands slept,
while others turned their sights homeward and wept.
by Belinda Roddie
The cowhands danced beside the cacti as
the desert sun dipped lower in the sky,
the heat clinging to the brims of the hats
that each cowgirl and cowboy wore. The eye
of the moon kept watch as horizons dimmed,
and soon, guitars, banjos, and ukes were strummed
as some old ranchers sang of stories grim
while others drank cold whiskey to stay numbed.
One cowgirl told a tall tale of the past,
about a bronco working in the South
with cattle herds whose giant shadows cast
a majestic darkness across the mouth
of the Grand Canyon. Later, some hands slept,
while others turned their sights homeward and wept.
Comments
Post a Comment