About Steve Hagerman
Along where the Sweet drifts by slow and deep,
Where scrub prairie grass rolls on bitter wind.
Outside Cheyenne with the cattle and sheep,
Good fortune, or bad is found round each bend.
On up the Platte, where it's said time stands still
And ghosts of past hopes haunt one dusty trail.
A fragrant meadow, off Buffalo Hill,
Finds snow spattered dreams once destined to fail.
A cowboy clops by on his half broke old Paint.
All that he owns, save a dozen wild mares,
Is under a brimmed hat of bare constraint,
To lighten the lessons of lost affairs.
A distant coyote wails sad refrain,
Persistently echoed in lost lament.
Remembering days he'll never regain,
The cowboy turns back to his tussled torment.
Along where the Sweet runs laggard and deep,
And scrub prairie grass has long ago thinned.
Outside Cheyenne once the cattle and sheep,
Beheld a sad cowboy too dour to bend.
© 2006, Steve Hagerman
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
Steve told us: I wrote this poem more to myself than anything, to remind myself
not to be so gall darn stubborn all the time ... a little lament on what can happen to a man when he's too proud and stubborn.
About Steve Hagerman:
As a boy, I grew up on a small ranch out here in California and participated in the 4-H and FFA. Though getting up at 5am to milk the cows, feed the calves and let the horses to pasture was not a much enjoyed responsibility at that time. I did have some memorable moments, like taking a second place ribbon for my horse Charley in the Western Days Festival.
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