At The Corral of the Rafter J

At the Corral of the Rafter J
by Paul Kern
In the buffalo grass of Henry’s Flat,
At the corral of the Rafter J,
Picks and spades dug into my thoughts,
Cloudy as gunmetal grey.
A little to the off-side Ladd -
A cue I used to give him,
He’d side-pass right, left over right,
With so much grace and rhythm.
Didn’t know your younger years,
Those working the dirt that day,
For them Ladd you’re just plain old,
Breathing your last on the Rafter J.
Somewhere in that head of yours,
Don’t know where, never did -
Remember those cattle drives in July,
When you’d cut and spin and skid?
On forty mile runs you’d drink the wind,
Under saddle in the hills behind Bone,
In the rocks we both took a fall,
Wrecked – but you got us back home.
You never gave in – that is until now,
Stoved up for years you never let on,
Now listen - stand up ol’ boy - stand up!
Remember those trails in the dawn?
That’s it ol’ pal, easy now, take it slow,
A few last steps – there – you okay?
Over near the hole they’ve dug,
Near the bars of the Rafter J.
Now hold it steady and move in some,
There by the edge - just one last time,
Straighten ‘er out – to the off-side Ladd,
A little to the off-side boy - you’re fine.
The hardest aim a man can take,
Is that cross ‘tween eyes and ears,
Trembling hand and hammer cocked,
I shot – What’s this? - They’re tears.
My partner of some twenty years,
With thunder was whisked away,
He fell to the off-side into the hole,
On that cloudy windblown day.
In the buffalo grass of Henry’s Flat,
Seemed I heard a far-off neigh,
I turned him loose for good – he’s free,
At the corral of the Rafter J.
In the buffalo grass of Henry’s Flat,
At the corral of the Rafter J,
Picks and spades dug into my thoughts,
Cloudy as gunmetal grey.
A little to the off-side Ladd -
A cue I used to give him,
He’d side-pass right, left over right,
With so much grace and rhythm.
Didn’t know your younger years,
Those working the dirt that day,
For them Ladd you’re just plain old,
Breathing your last on the Rafter J.
Somewhere in that head of yours,
Don’t know where, never did -
Remember those cattle drives in July,
When you’d cut and spin and skid?
On forty mile runs you’d drink the wind,
Under saddle in the hills behind Bone,
In the rocks we both took a fall,
Wrecked – but you got us back home.
You never gave in – that is until now,
Stoved up for years you never let on,
Now listen - stand up ol’ boy - stand up!
Remember those trails in the dawn?
That’s it ol’ pal, easy now, take it slow,
A few last steps – there – you okay?
Over near the hole they’ve dug,
Near the bars of the Rafter J.
Now hold it steady and move in some,
There by the edge - just one last time,
Straighten ‘er out – to the off-side Ladd,
A little to the off-side boy - you’re fine.
The hardest aim a man can take,
Is that cross ‘tween eyes and ears,
Trembling hand and hammer cocked,
I shot – What’s this? - They’re tears.
My partner of some twenty years,
With thunder was whisked away,
He fell to the off-side into the hole,
On that cloudy windblown day.
In the buffalo grass of Henry’s Flat,
Seemed I heard a far-off neigh,
I turned him loose for good – he’s free,
At the corral of the Rafter J.
At the Corral of the Rafter J - Recitation
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