FOLK COLLECTION 11: The Skaggs Foundation Cowboy Poetry Collection

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

89

DW Groethe

Tripod

Tripod was a coyote, used to hang around the place, we'd run across him ever' now an' then, huntin' though the meadows or just lazin' on the hill that overlooked his buggy coyote den. His near hind leg was crippled, prob'ly shot while on the run, got lucky , dodgin' death by just a hiar.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

90

DW Groethe

One Morning at the gates of Eternity

Caw.. I turn my head up. One lonesome crow atop an old ash, still winter shorn in early spring. Caw.. Nice (I'm thinking) to be acknowledged by another species. Caw... Insistent. In cadence (crow cadence). Every few seconds or so a

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

92

DW Groethe

My Heart's in Montana

This ol' earth's a big piece stretchin' far beyond yonder, filled with cities of millions of folks all around'er. Their lives wallowed deep inside pillars of steel and concrete and land smothered dead with a seal of asphalt and chiprock till it's no longer real..mayhaps real for them but for someone like me..no..My hear't in Montana where the big rivers meet.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

94

DW Groethe

I Was Here

"I was here," said the bones, randomly scattered through the bunchgrass as I crossed to close the far gate. "Remember?...I was a~comin' four. Gave you two good calves. Heifer calves..Remember? It was something I ate, you said, Nails or wire or something. and when you found me it was too late, you said. And you left me here..Remember? I remember.. I was here." said the bones.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

95

DW Groethe

Roughstock

Thunder wrapped in hoof hide and hair, a~waitin' the storm rider. A nod, an opening, and like a July squall out of nowhere blows into being a sleek eight seconds. Heart poundin' hell tipping Eternity's edge gone int he breathless blink of a mind's eye gettin' set on the next go.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

99

DW Groethe

Two Cowpokes and a Tamper

They came upon a fencepost, a tamper leanin' on it, an' pondered on the world of fencin' arts. "Ev'r worked them things?," the other quipped, "the darn thing's got too many workin' parts."

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

100

DW Groethe

Star Cavvy

Somewheres along the line, after years of sleepin' out, a~layin, 'lookin' from his soogan bed, he got to seein' patterns, in the way the stars were set, a~studyin' the Heavens l'er head. One outfit to the north, was a big ol' letter M. His first pony'd wore that brand up 'till it died. An' a square, not too far off, was that blockhead roan he'd rode up from Texas..fin'lly swapped its on'ry hide.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

101

DW Groethe

The Night Ol' Flukie Foundered

We'd been quaffin' quarts of beers an' exchangin' Christmas cheers, yeehawin 'hoots an' shriekin 'filled the hall. 'Cause in honor of the season, an' fer one another reason, it was time fer Smokey's annual oyster ball. When thru the ol' front door stepped a stranger, limpin' sore.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

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104

DW Groethe

The Homesteader

From day one, he knew that she, a great, gray granite thrust of a rock, was here to stay. He spent the summer taking team and stoneboat, plucking her brood, delving every inch of the field till it lay clean as wash..excepting that rock. A homesteader, three times the size of his stoneboat. He figured,

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

105

DW Groethe

Bittersweet and Ervin

Santa seen a lineshack in Montana, far below. Tugged a line 'n turned the team, lightin' softly on the snow. He slipped up to the window an' gandered some inside, seen a cowboy playin' cribbage with his young an' purty bride. Claus checked his list, say, once'er twice, an' found their names, a right, sauntered on back to his sleigh in moonlight shinin' bright.

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

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108

DW Groethe

When There's Frost Upon the Ponies

When there's frost upon the ponies an' snow drift ont he ground, an' that yeller sun comes creepin' through the cedars all around, a feller gets to thinkin' maybe winter ain't so bad, starts shuckin' off the mem'ries

Prairie Song A Meander Of Memory

FC 11 G-44

109

DW Groethe

Over Yonder

They're a diff'ernt sorta breed, them that take to horse an' saddle, restless souls that're mighty prone to wander. Tho' they're grateful to be reachin' trail's end when day is done, they're always itchin' for what's over yonder. Might be it's just a hilltop that they've never seen before, get's 'em wond'rin 'bout what's on the other side.

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

6

Peggy Godfrey

Resilience

No promises the wind will make unto the tender grasses nor leave a trace or memory nor count the times it passes. In gentle breeze or howling storm passion ebbs and flows resisting not, the grasses bend tremble, sing, and moan.

Write 'Em Cowboy

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8

Peggy Godfrey

Time Honored Ways

Folks who ranch on larger scale find my ways antique muscle and time don't have the shine of technologic mystique. My tarctors aren't horsepower heavy they haybine is in its teens my rake wakes the dead as it clatters an' the baler's as worn as my jeans.

Write 'Em Cowboy

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12

Peggy Godfrey

Ditch Fever

Water crawls down dry ditches then it seems to explode I learn on my shovel and stand in awe in sensory overload.

Write 'Em Cowboy

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14

Peggy Godfrey

The Vigil of 559

One solitary black baldy stands among the thorny chicos, mooing softly to her white-faced calf whose eye sockets are dark and sightless. No response to the cow's lowing, It lies sprawled and lifeless beneath the chico, mouth agape. Large pressed patches of soft earth show where mama spends the nights. Tracks toward the water hole and back out to the feed grounds and back out the back day after day.

Write 'Em Cowboy

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16

Peggy Godfrey

Country Graft

A babe who needs a mama or someone who wants a child you find 'em here in Moffat in happens in the wild. Animal adoption on a ranch is called a graft. There's not a baby shower for the little lamb or calf. For the best in bovine chemistry take a cow whose calf has died, if she hangs around and moos you skin the little hide.

Write 'Em Cowboy

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19

Peggy Godfrey

Roland

Everyone was sure Roland was my pa. It never seemed the bond we shared was daughter and father-in-law. Adaptable, inventive his mechanic expertise with Roland for a teacher new skills came with ease. I learn to drive a pick-up truck in mud and snow and slush,

Write 'Em Cowboy

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24

Peggy Godfrey

For Pete

I am an eagle with feet trapped in clay I wonder right now if I'll ever fly away. My wings are still strong, I still want to fly my heart has grown weary, frightened to try. I long for the heights where the air is cold I weep for the canyons, their shadows bold. I soared ont he winds my freedom was sweet-

Write 'Em Cowboy

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26

Peggy Godfrey

Real Wealth

My neighbors don't live close to me but we've each got our niche government says this area's poor our secret is: we're rich. My wealth won't buy insurance it won't trade in for much but "rich", to me, is measured by things no one can touch. The hint of mint in native hay fresh, sweet mountain air

Write 'Em Cowboy

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31

Peggy Godfrey

Hey Cowboy

I may not have your anatomy nor weight the pounds you do but, fella, let me tell ya I'm not in awe of you. Winters are cold to both of us and both our backs get sore old age don't care which sex we are and heifers in labor don't score. The hand that feeds isn't woman or man it's just the hand that's there

Write 'Em Cowboy

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34

Peggy Godfrey

I Need Help

In the mornin' when I get up I feed orphan calves and lambs feels like I'm bartendin' happy hour at 6 a.m. Next I feed the cats and dogs the calf with frozen feet gets hay and grain to fatten then i check the sheep. Time to fry my bacon pour some coffee in a cup

Write 'Em Cowboy

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36

Peggy Godfrey

Perfect Wife

George and I been thinin' 'bout tryin' to find a wife a sweet and gentle martyr who'd like the ranchin' life. Ya know, someone to stay at home to mop the floors and dust tidy up around the house and never show disgust. Not he horse-back ridin' sort

Write 'Em Cowboy

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40

Peggy Godfrey

Old Vogal

Told me I was lucky when I went to cut his hay a bloom or two means lots of leaves 'Course it's best that way. He assured me I was lucky that my bales were done up tight lucky that I caught the dew and chanced to bale it right. Oh yes, and I was lucky

Write 'Em Cowboy

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41

Peggy Godfrey

My Neighbor

Vogal is my neighbor he's nearly twice my age I heard when he was a young man he drew a cowboy's wage. I can see he's mighty puzzled by his neighbor's ranchin' wife- her mother should have taught her 'bout her station in this life.