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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1759251
Old cowboy bringing in herd. Old & close to death but does not want to be his last ride.
"The Last Ride"

The storm clouds roll in from the west,
but he still has miles to go.
He's gotta push this herd into Cheyenne,
but time has taken it's toll.

He knows he's part of a dying breed
still living by the code.
He bed's down beside his campfire
to fight off the cold.

He closes his eyes
and takes in the night air,
he looks to heaven,
he whispers a prayer,

"Oh sweet Jesus,
don't take me tonight,
I'm just not ready
for my last ride."

He'll miss the sweet smell
of sage in bloom,
he'll miss the coyotes
howling at the moon.

He knows that he wont be missed,
no wife,
no kids,
no relationships.

If he could change it,
he'd leave it alone,
the life of a cowboy
is all he's known.

It's not the dying
that scares him the most,
he's just not ready
to give up the ghost.

He's not a man of many fears,
it's really just the one.
He knows he'll face it tonight,
when he goes to meet the Son.

He takes his last breath
as the rain starts to fall,
He sees a man,
standing tall.

The Father reaches down
takes him by the hand
"My son we're going
to the Promise Land."

They get to heaven
and to his surprise,
he feels the tears
come to his eyes.

The Father says "son,
I know that you tried,
so now you will always be
on your last ride."

He smells the sweet smell
of sage in bloom,
he can hear the coyotes
howling at the moon.

As he looks around
he feels such pride,
because now, he will always be,
on his last ride.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1759251-The-Last-Ride