The Cowboy Way - 2nd Third
This is, as indicated, the 2nd THIRD of this lengthy poem. Due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations, this piece had to be posted in 3 parts.
The 1st and final thirds can easily be accessed, of course, by going to - "Poems by Mark Stellinga" - on the Soup. Sorry for the inconvenience...it's definitely worth the read - but start with the 1st THIRD -
“Here’s about the way it goes, when brandin’ time rolls by, we take on extra hands to get us through.
Couple days o’ burnin’ calves ‘ll have ya’ understandin’ what it’s like to brand and - buckaroo.
“Twice a day…sun up - sun down…we gather ‘round fer chuck. Ol’ Coosie lays a spread ya’ can’t turn down.
It ain’t all gussied up with colored sauce an’ set on fire - the way them fancy clip joints do in town -
“But, son, I gotta tell ya’…when a big ol’ side o’ beef’s been spinnin’ slow since dawn, and over wood -
Ain’t no place on earth I know…an’ ain’t no high-browed chef…can serve a steak as tender - or as good!
“Sure, the days are often long…the work is sometimes hard…but long, hard work provides its own reward.
Ranchin’ tends to turn a man from weak to tough as nails…you’ll rarely hear a cowboy say he’s bored…
“And when a neighbor’s needin’ help, when someone’s hurt, or dies - ‘cause every cowman cares about the land -
Fer every kind o’ help he needs - to get his ranchin’ done - he’ll rearrange his own, and lend a hand.
“After chuck we saddle up an’ head fer parts unknown, to hunt from dawn to dusk for slicks an’ strays.
Coosie loads the wagon up with salt pork - flour - an’ beans ‘cause now an’ then we’re out fer several days.
“Almost all the hands ‘ll carry chew, and drink tequila…but Rowdy ain’t about to let you drink.
Had me drive to Beaumont Friday night fer sarsaparilla…an’ if you was to ask me what I think…
“I’m prepared to make a bet your daddy ordered Rowdy not to let you chew…or get you drunk!
Here’s the bunkhouse,” Buck announced, “enjoy it while you can. Tonight’s the only night you’ll have a bunk!
Once again the humor that his newfound friend conveyed had left the nervous child in all but tears.
“Wonder if yer daddy’d come unglued if he found out that you an’ me’d done shared a couple beers!”
Almost spitting up with laughter, T. D. saw that Buck was trying very hard to be a friend.
Gazing at his weathered face - his wise and harmless eyes - he knew the time that he and Buck would spend
Working side by side would change the way he saw his purpose. The way he felt a man was meant to be.
And certain Buck was like his daddy…tough and unafraid…he planned to somehow prove that - so was he!
“What’s it like to live for days on end” the boy inquired, “without a PDA, or blue-tooth cell?”
“Well, young man,” ‘ol Buck began, “I’ll bet in two, three days…yer gonna think you died an’ went to hell!”
“Gittin’ used to bedrolls takes a week or two, an’ then - at best, a few hours sleep is all you’ll get.
An’ even on the hottest days the nights can get real chilly - an’ like as not you’ll wake up cold an’ wet!
“Ain’t no doubt about it, son…a cowboy’s life is tough…but tough is what it makes you…and that’s good.
The chance o’ findin’ some way…not as hard, but - just as fun…to earn a livin’s slim…but if I could…
“Ain’t no way I’d even think o’ doin’ somethin’ diff’ernt. Why, ranchin’ life is all I’ve ever known.
The sun’s the only clock we need……we never pay fer parkin’……an’ ain’t no one allowed to bring a phone!
“Time to git yer pony, son…ol’ Bandelero’s waitin’…an’ then we’ll hit the barn an’ grab some tack.
An’ if ya’ don’t fall off, T. D. - or let ‘er catch ya’ starin’ - I guarantee - she’ll
git ya’ there and back.
“An’ Curly ‘ll treat ya’ right...but keep ya’ busy,” Buck went on…“finest ‘hoodlum’ Rowdy ever raised.
T. D. was surprised to hear him call some guy a 'hoodlum', but figured any man that Buck had praised
Must o’ been the type that never took no crap from no one, and lived his life by what they call - “the code.”
“Curly works as long and hard as anyone,” he added - as off into the setting sun they rode.
Couple hours later - ‘neath a near-full-yellow moon - a flickering little campfire first appeared.
Gatherin’ ‘round their horses - as they trotted into camp…(each one wore a moustache…some a beard) -
T. D. quickly figured out that…Buck had brung their mail - and as they raced to read them by the fire -
Couldn’t help but wonder how they - season after season - found so many crazy fools to hire!
Pret’ near every day was hot…the nights were often cold…the work was hard…the pay was hardly “good,” An’ figurin’ those who’d hired on would know how tough it is, he couldn’t make no sense o’ why they would!
Lookin’ ‘round the tiny camp he noticed just how peaceful everybody seemed.
It made him think.
That was when he noticed someone standin’ by the wagon, liftin’ up a cup, to take a drink.
Now, be sure not to skip the final third - it's a wonderful read -
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