Trail Of Tears

Trail Of Tears Twenty bucks in quarters in the pockets of my jeans- My Daddy’s trophy buckle, just last week I’d turned eighteen. I kissed Mom in the kitchen, she knew I had to go… To hitch my wagon to a star, and follow rodeo. I made a lot of small shows, those were the hungry years. I learned to know, and ride them all, and how to calm my fears. I bought a Permit, then a Card, and I was on my way- I’d finally gotten good enough, to make my passion pay! I got broke up in Prescott, when I drew a spinnin’ bull- I ached too bad to sleep at night, from muscles I had pulled… Those all night drives, and motel beds, too quickly took their toll- Then one day I realized, “Hey, stud, you’re getting’ old!” I drove out to the fairgrounds, last week in my home town. I parked my old Suburban, got out and walked around… The sun was shining brightly, but I saw arena lights- And heard the cheering of the crowds, like on those bygone nights. I doffed my hat and stood there, a tear formed in my eye- It’s such a mournful feeling, when your dreams dry up and die… What have I to show now, for nearly fifty years- But hair gone gray, my aching bones, and a lonely trail of tears. Written December 4th, 2001 © on Dec 04 2001 11:26 AM PST, John R. Yaws   0 • 10