When the boys start out on circle, they most always travel slow.
‘Cause their breakfast isn’t settled, and they’ve got a ways to go.
And perhaps a couple fellers is a little stiff and sore,
From the ridin’ and the brandin’ that they did the day before.
The hands do a little talkin’ but they watch the country ’round.
And the hosses keep a walkin’ while the saddles settle down.
The old Boss he “Gives the powders,” as he lets ’em ease along;
There won’t be no time for no talkin’ when they once get goin’ strong.
He keeps chawin’ his tobacker, and he spits and works his jaws,
While he talks about the water holes, the canons and the draws.
Purty soon they start a ridin’ and they throw the circle far.
Puffs of dust along the sky line show you where the riders are.
You might think there were no cattle in that country anywhere,
Till the circle starts to narrow and the dust hangs in the air.
By noon time the round up’s gathered, and it makes you wonder how
Such a little bunch of riders ever found so many cows.
(Bruce Kiskaddon)
More Poetry from Bruce Kiskaddon:
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Based on Topics: Water Poems, Countries Poems, Cows PoemsBased on Keywords: spits, talkin, canons, saddles, fellers, ridin, hosses, powders, purty, walkin, brandin