Rodeo

Boots and blood
And dust and mud
Can drown no more
That sacred roar
That,
On its own—
A mighty groan—,
Lifts heroes into local lore.

A man upon
A half a ton
Of horseflesh
For
The waves of glory
Won’t know when
His time is spent.
He’ll ride ’til he can ride no more.

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Wisps of Life Escape

Wisps of life escape

Through jaws clenched tight against a deep’ning stream

Of longheld notions,

Too entrenched for daylight to evaporate,

Toward spaces drawn

Behind the clouds where there resides a lasting dream

Of sparrows blown away,

Off course, lost lonesome along waves of time,

But singing as before,

Beyond the reach of self-inflicted lies

(Those tiny falsehoods

That cut often into barren, aching fate)

And fleeting thoughts of

Desp’rate times, glimpsed black between the rustling reeds.