by Mark Munzert
Morn’ amongst remuda.
Dew upon the dirt.
Check’n mounts on over,
Make sure none is hurt.
Bright eyes, they are alerted
Some blink ‘how ‘bout me’?
Some’s tuckered from yesterday,
I’ll jus’ let them be.
I love the smell o’ horse flesh.
They jumble and sashay.
I drop loop around a neck
And three others come my way.
Sun half up. Ears pin’d back.
They’re a band of brothers.
Not unlike my Pards and me.
Some friendlier than others.
We got a day ahead of us.
Take an extra pair per drover.
Don’t need none to fuss,
It’ll be dark before it’s over.
Pick, bridle, brush,
Cinch the saddle tight.
Canteen, coffee, hardtack
And bedroll for the night.
Mounted up.
Down the trail we go.
Trottin’ pace.
Extra mounts in tow.
Miles lay ahead of us.
Our horses get it done.
Without a horse, still cowboys,
But with ‘em, we are one.
Mark Munzert has been branded ‘the Cowboy Poet of the Northeast’ as his present home is in upstate New York’s Mountains region. The ranch-hand, descendant of horse-folk, cow-losopher performs regularly at Western events, dude ranches, and many Cowboy Gatherings. Contact him at 315.480.7586 or markmunzert@gmail.com
