The Drives

A Vaquero’s sombrero and a bright colored sash
In the shade of a cottonwood tree
In a time way before this dang black asphalt slash
That now connects prairie to sea

The great cattle drives were finished I’m told
Many years before I was born
I imagine that they were a sight to behold
Vast rivers of rawhide and horn

They flowed to the north through grasslands so green
That the sight of them could hurt your eyes
The long trails were endless, at least so they seemed
As endless as wide western skies

And along with the flow rode our heroes back then
Moving the herd left and right
A huge mindless beast and a few fearless men
Each sunset they’d stop for the night

At dawn once again two thousand head move
Ever northward through valleys and plains
The cowboys worked hard. They had nothing to prove
Now only their legend remains

If you stand on the prairies and stand very still
It might take a while but don’t fret
You might just get a glimpse over far away hills
Of a thing that you’ll never forget

It might just be the light or the time of the day
Or your mind playing tricks for awhile
But if you’re like me you just might want to stay
And then after a while you’ll just smile

The old Drovers are gone but their spirit lives on
You can catch it sometimes in the winds
They saw these same clouds as they galloped along
And their legends remain as our friends

Those old cowboys are gone and they’ll never return
Guess it probably should be that way
But the mark that they made is the heart of the West
I can feel it beat strong every day.

Photo by Chris Sills aka Sidewinder Sills