FOLK COLLECTION 11: The Skaggs Foundation Cowboy Poetry Collection
29769 results found for "No Search Criteria Set"Book Title
Composer
Call #
Pages
Author
Poem Title
First Lines
Keywords
Pioneer Poetry and Prose
FC 11 S-67
51
Rhoda Cosgrave Sivell
The rider's paradise
A rider lay in the bunk-house.
Pioneer Poetry and Prose
FC 11 S-67
54
Rhoda Cosgrave Sivell
The wolf-dog
I have ridden in the day time, I have ridden in the night
Pioneer Poetry and Prose
FC 11 S-67
57
Rhoda Cosgrave Sivell
Visions
I sit beside my firelight in the gloom, the shadows darken in the dim old room.
Pioneer Poetry and Prose
FC 11 S-67
57
Rhoda Cosgrave Sivell
Every day
It's not the glorious mountain in the distance far away
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
12
Morning Pause
At the speed of light the seasons change wet to hot and dry to cold again.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
13
Obstacles
There are boulders even in dry creek beds, obstacles for water to flow around--make the sounds that soothe us so.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
14
Ideas of August
Time before the calves come to fill the canyon with the scent of limp placentas, wet hides licked to stand and suck.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
15
April Sunday
My Red Bud shield thickening with green heart-shaped leaves rooted between me and horses grazing.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
16
Retreat
And as it should be, I suppose three black robes, three faces sallow with the law, ashen with the weight of phrases.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
18
September 11, 2006
Certain smells won't wash off. She's three, bred at a thousand pounds to a low birth-weight Angus and the calf's breech.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
20
Ambiguity
We know the way the mind can wander among the details working in the dirt.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
21
Home
Long-haired horses watch the house exhale smoke that spills off eaves--taste oak and manzanita, listening for the screen door's slap awake.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
22
Burning Tree
Cut limb planted like a fence post near the wash rack where weary horses stand for hose spray.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
23
Listening for Effie Hilliard
Small bunch. Calves push 300 pounds. Frizzled-ends of winter-hair after a month of all-night frosts. Cows thin, ushered-in to the land, press the fence to watch.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
24
Dust
With my step I stir the dust of ten thousand head that have crossed here--cattle, elk and deer.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
25
John Cutler's Cowboys
I know the place my grandfather's grandfather found to escape the drought, heard the voices of his vaqueros when I got turned around in the tight pines near Ellis Meadow.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
26
Last Gate
The valley pulls away in a haze, packs its orchards and hardware stores off to another time. The gate, short of dragging, sags--falls open easily.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemye
FC 11 D-15
27
Like Water
Cattle spill like water through the saddle down to the flat like every year before the calves are branded.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
28
When Redbuds Come
The raw Rredbud time colors the mountain cowboy dance beyond all metaphors of worry.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
29
Cowboy Capitulation
Sometimes we howl like coyotes, let our yippee-ti-yi-yos go to God knows where just to let every living thing out-there know we own the space they can't look after.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
30
Island
We are an island, a green tree oasis between steep waves of golden feed broken by Blue Oaks with leather leaves and the wild wants what waters here.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
31
From the Garden
This side of the stream of evening cars and pickups flowing up and down the canyon, half-lit sorrel geldings graze the fading green knoll: hollow ground where native women stayed beyond these bred, red heifers.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
32
Vernal Equinox 2007
The balance of all things, even the south slopes turning brown in spring--cattle early in the day to mottled shade of leafless trees looks like the last line, yet the finches and the bullfrogs don't believe it's over.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
33
Sabbath Shower
With grins of green, everything relaxes. Even the brown patches lounging on the south slopes privately bathing in a slow gray rain up and down an empty canyo road--gentle strum upon the roof, the soothing hymn.
Poems from Dry Creek
John Dofflemyer
FC 11 D-15
34
Fish Stories
Each black dawn before the siren sounds the start of the day, I meet you here on a white sheet, unfold the old hinges to steal time.