Red Latigo Reins

RED LATIGO REINS

I remember the first day I lay eyes upon them
I was impressed by the way they caught the noon sun
I reached out, and, touching, ran my hands down the leather
They were smooth and light; full of promise and fun.

The smell was like fields and dust on the trails
that caught in my heart like the way a shank sings.
They bid me to follow, they encouraged me onward
so I bought them, these never ending red leather things.

I remember while riding that umpteenth trail
how right was the feel, the weight like pure gold,
and I felt like the cowboys holding the world by the mane
as I loped and I trotted down canyons of old.

They rhymed with the jingle of bit metal and bridle
and they matched all the pictures of westerns I knew
until the last hour which came unexpected
taking me by surprise, clear out of the blue.

I'll always remember that very last day
when I took off the bridle for the very last time.
How sad was the feel of rough, heavy leather
all sweaty and dull and all out of rhyme.

My trail had ended, the fun was all spent now
before long I'd come to the end of the plains,
but I'll always think kindly of these sweet reminders
of horses, and trails, and red latigo reins.