gcreekrch
Well-known member
A childhood mentor of mine passed on 3 weeks ago due to complications following repair on a ruptured aorta. He was 80. I asked the family if I could recite a poem at his memorial and they accepted. Due to my lack of creativity in prose, I asked Baxter Black and Co. if I could borrow a poem of his and change a few names and places. They gladly gave me permission as long as credit for the main poem went to the author.
Thanks again Cindy Lou, Vicky, and Baxter.
Rest in Peace, Dale Valburg.
Somewhere deep in the old man's eyes a mem'ry took a'hold.
It fought the ageless undertow that drains and mocks the old.
I wiped a dribble off his chin, "Pop, tell me what you see?"
"It's all the boys I rode with, I think they've come for me."
.Unconsciously I checked the door, "It's nothin' but the wind.
You better try and git some rest, tomorrow we'll go in."
"Is that you, Phil? I can't quite see. Yer mounted might well.
You never rode a horse that good when we were raisin' hell."
"Lie down, old man. There's no one here." "No, wait, that looks like Jerry.
He helped me put ol' Red to sleep. Why, hell, he even cried.
Now don't forget to check the salt, them cows'll drift back down.
Well, I'll be damned, there's Gunderson , he ranched here on the Horsefly.
"When I bought in to buckaroo…But that's been fifty years."
The old man squinched his rheumy eyes, I dabbed away the tears.
The boss had told me he was old, had seen a lot of springs.
I bet ya if you peeled his bark, you'd count near eighty rings.
We'd rode the last three summers here together on the rim.
Just he and I, for puncher's pay. I'd learned a lot from him.
But now I'm settin' by his bed, uncertain what to do.
I ain't no good at nursin' coots. I'm only twenty-two.
"I reckon that I'm ready now. My friends are set to go.
They've got an extra mount cut out that's just for me, I know."
"You've got to stop this foolish talk! You shouldn't overdo!
Pop, all you need's a good night's sleep. You'll be as good as new."
"Don't make it complicated, kid, cut a pal some slack.
The saddle on that extra horse…that's my ol' weathered kak.
I'm comin', Phil, I'll be right there," He winked a misty eye
And tried to reach up for his hat, then died without a sigh.
I'll tellya, man, it freaked me out! I dang near come in two!
I'd never watched a person die, especially one I knew.
I tried to say a little prayer but all I knew was grace.
So I just said, "Good Bye, Old Man." and covered up his face.
I poured myself the bitter dregs and stood out on the step.
Alone I listened to the night, as still as death, except,
I thought I heard above the coffee sloshin' in my cup
The far off, easy, pleasured sound of old friends catchin' up.
Used with authors permission from his column "On The Edge of Common Sense"
Coyote Cowboy Company
P.O. Box 2190
Benson, AZ 85602
(800) 654-2550
www.baxterblack.com
Thanks again Cindy Lou, Vicky, and Baxter.
Rest in Peace, Dale Valburg.
Somewhere deep in the old man's eyes a mem'ry took a'hold.
It fought the ageless undertow that drains and mocks the old.
I wiped a dribble off his chin, "Pop, tell me what you see?"
"It's all the boys I rode with, I think they've come for me."
.Unconsciously I checked the door, "It's nothin' but the wind.
You better try and git some rest, tomorrow we'll go in."
"Is that you, Phil? I can't quite see. Yer mounted might well.
You never rode a horse that good when we were raisin' hell."
"Lie down, old man. There's no one here." "No, wait, that looks like Jerry.
He helped me put ol' Red to sleep. Why, hell, he even cried.
Now don't forget to check the salt, them cows'll drift back down.
Well, I'll be damned, there's Gunderson , he ranched here on the Horsefly.
"When I bought in to buckaroo…But that's been fifty years."
The old man squinched his rheumy eyes, I dabbed away the tears.
The boss had told me he was old, had seen a lot of springs.
I bet ya if you peeled his bark, you'd count near eighty rings.
We'd rode the last three summers here together on the rim.
Just he and I, for puncher's pay. I'd learned a lot from him.
But now I'm settin' by his bed, uncertain what to do.
I ain't no good at nursin' coots. I'm only twenty-two.
"I reckon that I'm ready now. My friends are set to go.
They've got an extra mount cut out that's just for me, I know."
"You've got to stop this foolish talk! You shouldn't overdo!
Pop, all you need's a good night's sleep. You'll be as good as new."
"Don't make it complicated, kid, cut a pal some slack.
The saddle on that extra horse…that's my ol' weathered kak.
I'm comin', Phil, I'll be right there," He winked a misty eye
And tried to reach up for his hat, then died without a sigh.
I'll tellya, man, it freaked me out! I dang near come in two!
I'd never watched a person die, especially one I knew.
I tried to say a little prayer but all I knew was grace.
So I just said, "Good Bye, Old Man." and covered up his face.
I poured myself the bitter dregs and stood out on the step.
Alone I listened to the night, as still as death, except,
I thought I heard above the coffee sloshin' in my cup
The far off, easy, pleasured sound of old friends catchin' up.
Used with authors permission from his column "On The Edge of Common Sense"
Coyote Cowboy Company
P.O. Box 2190
Benson, AZ 85602
(800) 654-2550
www.baxterblack.com