Thunder Butte

April 05, 2009

Saddle Sore, A Poem

He's slowen down some
That was quite a run
Swet'n bad
Pull up old friend
I think our day has come
Get over in the shade old hoss
I'll git that saddle off
You must be half sick
Let me scrape that sweat and froth
Look at that
That big old saddle sore
Now how long you had that old friend
Aint there never any end
That's good lay down there in the shade
Down the gulley I'll find something wet
You'll be better old friend
I'll get you feel'n better yet
Here take this grass it'l make you strong
Dang it how could I have pushed so hard
I've really done you wrong
Don't stop breath'n yet
Let me take my shirt and rub the sweat
Oh my God old friend please don't go now
I should have known better you aint young
C'mon pal breathe for me
Cuss them damn buzzards in the trees
Goodbye friend
This is just the bitter end

--John Crowley
Mike Crowley Sunday, April 05, 2009


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