FOLK COLLECTION 11: The Skaggs Foundation Cowboy Poetry Collection

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Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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

FC 11 G-43

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.

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

I Tried

Seven barely-yearlin' bulls was chasin' Punkin 'round she didn't "take" on her second calf I'd have to haul her to town. Ralph and Vogal worried 'bout ol' Punkin' sorry plight she'd stand chin-deep in a muddy ditch watchin' the earlin' fight.

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

Listen

At home with a tiny new baby that mid-November day the neighbor's cows are in the stack, eatin' up my hay. This was twice the cows had come, pushed down a corner of fence I mended the break and set some posts; now they're back again. Finally got 'em all chased home

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

In Forty-Five Years

I've leaned to see the mountains as more than stone and mud come to know my neighbor as more than flesh and blood I've grown to see the work I do as more than passing time poetry means more to me than getting words to rhyme. I'm not aware each day is more than getting on with life I see myself as more than just my role as mom or wife

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

Why Ranchin'?

Misunderstood intentions mislabeled: "Not to bright" some folks look down on ranchin' as a crude irreverent blight. "Regular" folks get jobs in town accumulate some wealth invest themselves in culture get preoccupied with health. Jog or walk around the par weight-life at the spa

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

Die-Hard

There's some of us left who still stack our hay on a trailer behind and old truck not big squares or round nor the five hundred pound but bales on person ca buck.

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

Necessities

Cattle I'm raisin' for profit hay that I bale is for feed I sell my spare time to a neighbor looks like a I got all I need.

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

Team Calving

Bod and I were riding heifers in the early morning cold tagging sluggish baby calves less than one day old. Looking out for heavies having trouble giving birth a job that comes with cattle no matter what they're worth. We eased up on a heifer

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

Sellin' Postholes

On a lazy after-dinner we were all too full to move conversation drifted aimlessly through economic grooves. Robert was a moanin' quite sure he'd be unpaid for 300 feet of dry well and casin' he had laid. Us ranchers bemoaned the weather an' the dropped-out price of cattle

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

First Year Cleanin' Ditches

The Rio Chiquito mother ditch on her way to the Rio Grande owned me nine acres of water rights so with shovel in hand I set off, a new landowner, to join that Saturday band of ditch-cleaners, hired and borrowed my share of the water to claim. My over-wintered muscles and snugly-booted feet

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

Cattle Work

Sun's high day's hot cowboy's are ready cattle are not. Cattle are penned fences get fought cattle are ready trucker is not. Winter's a whinin' there's mud in the lot cowboy's are ready horses are not. The sale is over cattle are bought trailer is ready critters are not.

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

Green-Horse Hash

Aha! You laugh at the little no doubt you'd laugh at my lunch if you'd seen it there on the mountain as we cow punchers started to bunch in the meadow sometime close to midday I opened my saddlebags lunch was beyond recognition. You know when the cowdog gags that lunchtime has gone awry.

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

Aspen Tax

Ridin' in the mountains gatherin' stragglers in the fall cows that won't meander down who'd never come home at all. The sun is still a measure warm aspens turning' gold oak brush dressed in orange and brown say summer has been sold. Crisp air has got that autumn smell flower colors deepen words or paint or photographs:

Write 'Em Cowboy

FC 11 G-43

Peggy Godfrey

Out West

The West was not built with excuses for why I can't do this or that times may have changed but at home on the range the cows not the cowboys get fat. The west was not built with excuses for why one can't do what he sez a handshake was good and the good understood without some slick lawyer's finesse.