Friday, September 26, 2014

I Want

I want to feel better.
I want my eyes to only ache because there is dust in them.
I want to cough on branding smoke instead of exhaust fumes.
I want to see the land sprawled out and painted like a canvas map for my horse's hooves to roam.
I want to smell horse sweat and feel beads of it running down my face.
I miss seeing hooves slinging dirt across acres after a renegade heifer.
I haven't forgotten the feeling of turning a cow on the fence.
I haven't forgotten the pride which is in long manes and mustache knotted tails.
I want sage brush to buff against my legs and I want the sun to burn hot on my chaps.
I want wooden heeled boots puffing at the dusty desert's heart.
I want spring water on my lips and saddle pads that know nothing of being dry.
I want my hands to be cracked and bruised.
I want to hear a diesel engine growl into the morning darkness and I want to hear your voice in the old wooden tack shed.
I want to hold your callused hand.
I would cry your name into the desert if you weren't here.
I want to know better the minds of horses.
I want the tops of my hands to be red and my muscles aching.
I want my spurs to be rusted and know the hides of many horses.
I want my favorite color to be spring.
I want my horn wrap to be glassed over and blue.
I want my ropes to be melted and frayed and my boots and saddle to tell more stories than my lips.
I want the brim of my hat to shade my green eyes and I want that palm leaf almost worn through.
I want to know the country side, to know every canyon and every spring.
I want to doctor calves in the moonlight.
I want to become alike my role model.
I want the pages of my bible to look like they've been through hell.
I want to see my sister's braid dangling by her cantle bind.
I want my hands to have shaped words upon paper.
I want my heart to know God better.
I want to thrive in this heaven on earth.
I want to watch it play out through the tall desert grass fresh dewed by midnight's rain.


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