19 March 2014

One Horseman's Son


One Horseman's Son
16 March 2014

On paper my father was a farmer
But that's something of a misnomer.
Although he spent time pulling plows
I never knew him to own any cows.
Proving as a groom that he was a generous gent,
He gave my mother a horse as a wedding present.
Around the time I came along
His horse herd was a dozen strong.
Among canyons and hills renowned
For expansive outdoor spaces,
Were acres and acres of playground
And an all-around view of faraway places.
I grew up riding horses on our days off.
We would see the them from a ways off
And approach with grain in a pail,
Shaking it to make the sale.
With their noses in the bucket, distracted,
It was easy to slip a loop around their neck
Before they caught on and reacted.
Just reins were all you needed, by heck,
To ride bareback and race with the wind.
Nothing more fun could be imagined.

How pleasant to wallow in the sentimentality
Of remembering youth in less than its totality.
I now live hours away in another state.
Growing up on a ranch didn't determine my fate.
My current lifestyle is different from then,
Very different from what might have been.
Hoeing beans and getting sunburned.
Was the very first money I earned.
I carefully accounted for every penny that came.
The values learned then are now lived the same.
Yes, much has changed over the many years,
But I'm still the horseman's son, my dears.

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