Steve Kenney

A ROADSIDE COWBOY

Living like a Roadside Cowboy Who doesn’t have that far to fall Hanging on for those eight seconds Over on the edge of it all

Living like a Roadside Cowboy Who doesn’t have that far to fall Living, Lying, Crying, and Dying Over on the edge of it all

Leaning there on his thumb
As the rest of IT, passes him on by Not much left, but to wander on In the land of the big, blue sky

Gone are all the big, bucking bulls And the ladies of the evening too So is the loud roar of the crowd But left is the beer and the booze

The Dust of the Chase, and the fear, And the smell of a coming rain What’s left is the broken body
And free of charge—most of the pain

Belt buckles that were won and earned Not those that are bought or given Bad choices made that weren’t for pay Sins committed, that weren’t forgiven

Dancing in late night honkie tonks With the commercial company Dodging those mechanical bull- riding cowboy wannabes

Free handouts and lucky thumb-outs Are how he tries to make his ways Chasing the Corner Turn, to catch A glimpse of those old Glory Days

The dry, cracked boots and wornout spurs Taken off the Marlboro Man
Traded for an oxygen tank
That keeps him tied down to the land

Living like a Roadside Cowboy Who doesn’t have that far to fall Hanging on for those eight seconds Over on the edge of it all

Living like a Roadside Cowboy Who doesn’t have that far to fall Living, Lying, Crying, Dying Over on the edge of it all

SWK 08/23/13

A STATE OF GRACE

for Bronco

All my life I have searched for a Sense of Place To find the tempo to set my Sense of Pace River life creates such an Amazing Space Running water finds me in A State of Grace

Those long flat stretches floating on liquid glass Living in the present and not in the past

The water’s silence as you feather your oars
No matter the stretch, it leaves you wanting more

The undulating curves at a rapid’s edge The serenity fades as you drop the ledge

Once committed to the Mother’s tongue Your fate to the river cannot be undone

The mixture of Power and Fragility Rapids in their glory are a site to see

Enjoying low water runs and spring time floods Running crystal clear and sometimes like liquid mud

The bright dories running high, wide, and handsome Taking your everlasting soul for ransom

Running a sweep boat down alone in The Church Is another place where your soul can be searched

Hearing a canyon wren at the break of day The smell of cowboy coffee floating your way

Catching reflections of the cliff sides above
Side canyon hikes that can’t but fill you with love

Late afternoon light that envelops us all Fiery sunsets which ignite the canyon walls

The casting shadows at the end of each day The Quiet that surrounds you in such a way

Our hardships and friendships blend with laughter We hope to touch their lives, make them better

The look in the eyes of a fellow brother Raised apart but wedded to the same lover

Some memories are momentarily lost
But I know the feeling each time I push off

I am blessed to have been shown such majesty I shall ever dream of her great mystery

In this World, I have found my Sense of Place The heavenly waters set my Sense of Place My River Life defines my Personal Space Running water finds me in A State of Grace

SWK Oars-Dories 09/18/09