Sun Up to Sun Down
This poem is from Ed Keenan,
author & cowboy poet
 

It’s another mornin’ gettin’ dressed
In ember skirts and pinks
Distant peaks and mountaintops
And canyons fold in inks

High noon comes to pause a bit
And refresh the tired horses
In the meager shade of tamarisk
A shallow spring that courses

The midday sun bears down hot
Slowin’ life to a standstill
Herdin’ the doggie strays to water
On a trail toward the windmill

The horizon blur of spinning blades
Beckons thirsty horse and rider
A grassy spot near the drippin’ tank
Makes hearts a little lighter

A faint silhouette comes into view
An ‘ol faithful desert beacon
Weatherworn by windswept years
Lifts the spirits with its squeakin’

The plateau easel of setting sun
Colors amber rust and fawn
Above shear cliffs of terra cotta
Becoming ocher in the dawn 

Sundown sculpts the shadowed crags
Where shades of mauve had snow
Where distant peaks of serrate loom
And fluorescent mountains glow

With smell of saddle sweat and leather
And dove weed on the ground
The stirrup squeaks to clinkin’ spurs
And nighthawk’s evenin’ sound

Into tinted skies - a thousand vistas
Whipped by worlds unknown
He rides west toward beddin’ ground
Enjoyin’ evenin’ all alone

Ed Keenan © 2-02