The Old Saddle

POSTED IN contemporary poetry September 21, 2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Old Saddle

The old saddle
Carries the smells
Of well-worn leather,
Horses,
And the dusty
Scent of history,
Of countless
Rides across
Empty prairies,
Among the foothills
At their edges,
And along mountain streams.
The cowboy
Who owned it before
Left the stamp
Of his independent spirit,
Quiet solitude,
And inner strength.
When I sit
In that saddle,
I feel the connection
To the past,
To my horse,
To the land,
And to the truth
Of who I am.

 

 

 

 

Phil Ray Jack