Sunset Ride
by Michael Escoubas

The cowboy and his horse
silhouette against the declining sky,
dramatic as a painting–
a palette mixed with yellow,
blue and purple–
a scene beyond the reach
of any artist, not having felt it first.
A tune begins to form upon his lips.

The wrangler’s Stetson is down
well over his eyes. His chaps and spurs
show he’s been at work looking for strays
or riding fence. But now, at evening,
he’s content to shift a little in the saddle,
as the leather groans under his weight …
the tune, still a little vague, resonates.

The creek is blue, like the sky, it sings
happily, soft and low. Gray-green brittlebush,
pink Texas sage and yellow cassia
blend with the sky as if in symphony –
he began to sing some old cowboy song.
The melody became his companion, the tune–
the groaning leather, the vanishing blue,
the sunset ride, a Psalm at end of day.



 


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