Mid-day Cowboy

by Geoff Smith
(Carlisle, UK)

Mid-Day Cowboy

Gathered around campfires
Under star filled skies
The rangers and rustlers
Wipe smoke from their eyes

Staring toward the far distance
Raised glasses toast passing villains
Singing songs of prairie strangeness
Made famous by Cash and by Dylan

They call him Mid-Day Cowboy
In his hat and wax-oiled slicker
They fear his taking revenge
Know his brushes will barely flicker

As he draws another picture
Of the history they’d rather forget
Kicks earth over dying embers
And turns to collect his bet

The Mid-Day Cowboy is riding
The last of a dying steed
Named Night Mare for dreams
Spooked by tumbleweed