The Young Cowboy

Continued from last month

By Anna Bohnett,WCFS Senior

He stumbled and fell down,

But had no strength to get up.

Oh dust, please let him go!

He’s only a little pup!

He lay face down,

On a dessert dune,

Hoping, praing,

Help would come soon.

The dust became too much,

To death his lot was cast.

He drifted into unconsciousness,

He slowly breathed his last.

When the dust had settled,

And the sun shone bright again,

The boss stopped, to count cattle, sheep and men.

They soon found that

The Young Cowboy was missing.

They set out to find him-

Or at least his body to bring.

They found The Young Cowboy

Half buried in the road.

Two feet from a hitching rail

That stood by a ranchers abide.

Cattle and sheep

Lay strewn along the trail.

With the few animals left,

The completed drive would fail.

But The Young Cowboy

Was the only man to die.

A boy so young,

The only question is “why?”

Why? Why one so –

So full of life?

Back at home he had a sweetheart,

Who would never be his wife.

(To be continued next month)