His Last 8 Seconds

The only child

but favorite

of two ‘outlaws’

mare and stud

He bucked each

gelded moment

on their wild ride

of love

Until that day

he up and left

their branding iron

of pain

To wander high

and lonesome

mongst the free 

and tumbling sage

In search of one

last bronc to mount

that one last

horn to make

And spur the wreckage

of his youth

as Angels

— pull the Gate

(Pendleton Round-Up: June, 1993

Elko Nevada: Cowboy Poetry Reading: January, 1994)