Family Branding
Sunday afternoon,
get an iron on those babies, turn out next week.
All the kids are roping
Slurping lemonade between
throwing those big calves.
Growing up fast, all of 'em.
I see Zack jump up, yell at his sister,
"Julia, get over here and sit on this calf's head!"
He doesn't want to cause another wreck
in the middle of
family branding.
His long bronc-rider legs
take him around the back side of the trailer
faster than I can turn around.
I see you over there
Down on your knees
Across the lot,
Face gray in the spring wind.
See the horse, head high
His black mane flying like a victory flag
over an empty saddle.
In a minute, we're all there,
Except the kids, still back in the bunch,
Holding the herd,
Their ropes quiet,
Trying to see what happened.
Only a moment, twenty yards away,
but it doesn't look good.
They catch that renegade,
and Zack airs him out;
still mad about something,
he's ready to try it again.
You finish the day, rope lots of calves
on that bay horse,
but your face is gray
for a long time.
Three highballs into the evening
You still can't move, or breathe.
"Just wasn't payin' attention.
Switchin' ropes, dropped my reins,
If it'd been you or one of the kids,
I'd a given you hell
for what I did."
"Picked my spot too
But I still landed like a sack of shit."
Disgusted and sore, but mostly dismayed:
The years betray
what you know about yourself,
Bucked off today,
A month shy of 50.