Chapter 22

Poem #2 by Amy Kathryn Allen

Dust on my hat, sun on my face, Chasing the herd, at a steady pace. Wide open range, a boundless sky, Just me and my horse, and a watchful eye. Cattle are ours, hard-won and true, But shadows creep in, a lawless crew. Rustlers with greed, with a wicked gleam, Trying to steal our honest dream. We ride with our rifles, quick and bold, Defending our livelihood, stories untold. Sometimes the prairies are quiet and still, Then sudden danger, a fight uphill. Distant drums beat, a tribal call, Native warriors, standing tall. We share this land, a fragile peace, Sometimes a struggle, that will not cease. Campfires glow, under stars so bright, Tired and weary, through the long night. Dreaming of home, of a safer day, Just a cowboy's life, come what may.