SPOON ROCK

IMG_4335

 

Old black horse, tennis shoes.
I was ten, give or take a year or two,
driving cows and calves up Greasy
well-before they built the dam.

Dad hollering at the bunch splitting,
at me, at God, at everything.
You asked me then when we were done,
if I wanted to be a cowboy?

Tear streaks dried like a second skin,
I cried, “No!” and meant it—
horseback, just below Spoon Rock.

Amid the green, we have become old men,
of all the things we could have been,
going slow, just below Spoon Rock.

 

 

WPC(2) — “Achievement”

 

7 responses to “SPOON ROCK

  1. This was gr8. Amazing how a boy and even older, often don’t realize what has grown in our hearts.

    Like

  2. And there you are where you are meant to be. Beautiful post!

    Like

  3. Hoo boy. Got me again. Simple, honest, reflective. Think I’ll go sit and knit and ponder a bit. Happy Sunday.

    Like

  4. Caleb Pennebaker

    You and Clarence won’t ever get old. That being said that was beautiful.

    Like

    • Yeah, what a nice thought, Caleb. This morning I felt like I was 80 for about an hour. 🙂 It just takes a lot longer to get limbered up. My mantra’s become: lean forward, short steps until the work is done.

      Like

  5. Pingback: Finding Nemo in paper mache | Non perfect writing

  6. Vivid, moving, excellent. How the years collapse in retrospect. And isn’t it good that we can’t see the future? Happy Thanksgiving!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s