The Dream

[stitch]

Just somethin' I wrote ...

The Dream

By Stitch

The old cowboy sat on a ridge just below the tree line,
A gentle rain fell and it made the smell of Pinion, Juniper and sage all that much more enjoyable.
He breathed in that smell so familiar after all these years and all those trails.
He looked down into the valley at the herd grazing in the rain, they were some one else’s cattle from another time, … But that didn’t matter, once they might have been his … Or at least a herd he ran.
He sat atop that old dapple mare, God she’d been the best cow horse he’d ever known.
She was gentle on the run, She never danced on those cold frosty mornings … She could cut calves and turn wild steers without even being told ….
How long had she been dead now ? … He couldn’t even remember.
He shifted in the saddle and that squeak of well worn leather greeted his ears, … He smiled.
He reached back and patted that old Hog leg in the worn holster he wore … He laughed.
“Damn fine leather maker If don’t say” he said out loud.
That old mare turned and looked at him and snorted in a way that made him laugh.
Damn but if that old horse hadn’t been half human.
The rain fell on the brim of his hat in a soft patter, The sound of content cattle drifted up from the valley … He breathed deep the smells that had been with him all his life,
Juniper, sage, Leather and horse …. Damn but if it hadn’t been the best of lives.
A fog drifted down from the tree line, He looked back and saw it in the trees behind him.
It almost seemed to call his name.
With out being told, As if she knew just what she was doing, That old mare turned and slowly headed back the trail into the fog.
As they crossed into it the old cowboy smiled and breathed in the smells one more time.
Damn fine life it had been …. And a damn fine dream this had been. …
Was it a Dream? …. He didn’t care …
He was where he belonged.