haloed by the pale yellow glow
of a single street light,
crunch of gravel under well-worn,
well-loved, boots,
a lone cowboy boards
that lonesome city bus
pays the driver with a
slightly crumpled two dollar
bill, and a forget-me-not,
carefully preserved in plastic film
spurs jingle on the long
way to the back of the bus,
sinks down onto the seat and
wishes for a worn saddle instead
dead of night bleeds into
the rosy hues of dawn,
and still that cowboy rides,
unsure of a destination just yet
cowboy finds he misses
the west, all those rolling hills
and flat stretches of desert,
the feeling of your hand in his,
silence broken only by the baying
of far-off coyotes
and the cowboy exits the bus then,
tips his hat to the driver,
leaving the faint smell of sawdust,
and some of his heartbreak,
behind him
walks with purpose into
that rosy dawn,
your name on his lips,
and flowers held in
a steady hand
-
Author:
Boaz Priestly (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 8th, 2023 17:59
- Category: Love
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: jarcher54
Offline)
Comments2
Not really in the mindset for anything other than simplicity. Winter stagnation has set in.
A fine write for someone with clarity, I’m certain.
Good to hear from you, my friend!
Finding love after being lost is the theme. Seeking shelter, and finding it in someone.
I hope winter releases you from its clutches soon
This piece is lovely and tender and fiercely moving... your details are spot on... so real! This cowboy reminded me of me...Thank you. PS
Thank you so much!
I must confess the cowboy is used as a handy metaphor to embody my romantic inclinations.
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