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

©2008