Cowboy next to the cabin,

cactus gives little shade.

The brim of his hat

pulled down to hinder the sand

blowing like a whip into your face,

scratching his eyes.

Wished he was back in Reno,

at least they covered their windows

so drunks and sand could not blow in.

Tired of corn meal and beans, headed toward

Boom Town.  He’d get a bed and water there.

If he didn’t die or get killed on the way.

Climbing on, pulling his cowboy hat down again,

the horse began to step out.

Tim Flener

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