Something really different

[TheDeSade]

OK. . .so Im a product of my upbringing. I was raised around farms, ranches, etc. Hence, I dabble in cowboy poetry. Yeah . . I go to the festivals and all that stuff. Baxter Black is one of my poetry heros. So, stone me if you want. Here is one of my cowboy story poems. I thought it was fitting as I sit here and watch it snow outside.

Old Cain

My danged ol' truck broke down last week
in the middle of a drivin' snow
out on that loneseomw stretch of road
'bout that big ol' elm tree row.

It was awful cold in that hard north wind
tryin' to fix that blamed ol' truck.
An nuthin' I could think or do
seemed to be able to change my luck.

When out a the blindin' stingin' snow
a tall lanky figure strode.
Nodded as he walked on up
and asked what I's doin on that road.

I told him I was stalled and cold
and he smiled a toothy grin.
He reached into the cab of my truck
and said, "Let's try 'er agin!"

Well, that ol' truck she kicked right off
and purred like she was new.
He touched his hat and shook my hand
as I said a bewildered 'Thank You"

I drove to town thru that drivin' snow
and stopped at the local cafe.
Went inside to warm myself
and to see who was in town that day.

Hank and Ted and Buck was there
and the coffee was good 'n hot.
I told 'em about my stubborn truck
and wondered where that `poke lived at.

It got real quiet in there that day
and Hank looked kina stove in.
When Buck stood up and said "Come on,
Let's look at your truck again."

Out in the snow we raised the hood
and Buck went to pokin' around.
He soon looked up and without a smile
as spoke with barely a sound.

This motors cold and ain't been run
for more'n an hour or so.
I argued that I just drove it in
through a blindin' stickin' snow.

Buck turned the key and that ol' truck
didn't make a sound.
He looked round at me and said,
"Let's go back and sit down"

Ted was quiet and Hank looked sick
when me and Buck came in.
We sat down and filled our cups
when Buck spoke up again.

"Can you remember exactly where your truck broke down
out on that lonely road?"
I said "Sure. I know it well
that tree row near where tha’ line shack stood."

Hank shivered and Ted shook his head
as Buck began to explain.
"Don't nobody live out there no more
since they found ol' man Cain"

He froze to death out ridin' fence
'bout thrity years ago.
But ever since when the weather gets bad
Folks see strange things in the snow.

Some find a fire an coffee made
in the ol' abandoned shack.
Tho' no ones lived there for thirty years
and its always cold when they we go back.

Once in a while an unlucky soul
will break down out there in a storm.
A stranger comes and lends a hand
and a miracle seems to perform.

Your truck has thrown a rod
and couldn't drive to town
until the ghost of ol' man Cain
found you while ridin' around.

I can't tell what you might of seen
or who it might have been.
But without his help out on that road
you might have found your end!

I sat back and took a drink
and thought of what I'd seen.
and said a prayer for an old cowboy
who still rides the range unseen.

Copyright 1995

[rora]

*smiling* i liked it and believe it or not, i have seen Baxter Black in person. Thank You very much for sharing this.

[Sir_G]

Great poem DeSade. Reminds me, in a way, of a song we have down under called Waltzing Matilda. Whilst the theme is different the eerie quality is similar.

Quality poetry is just that, in what ever form it takes.

[poetic_justice]

Wonderful TDS.

[Alex Bragi]

Excellent! I really enjoyed reading this one. I loved the use of the contractions to give it that country feel and how it begins in a light and friendly manner, then turns eerie. And, the style itself is very much, as Sir G alluded to, very A.B. "Banjo" Paterson-ish.

[Echoes]

this sent shivers down my arms and I absolutely loved it, showing more of your creative and wonderful mind...thank you for sharing this TDS, very much.

[Timberwolf]

One cannot live in rural Alberta without being exposed to cowboy poetry. We are the Texas of Canada. And proud as such.