NaturesOde

 

  They kept him around The stables, corral And Range leading To the hills of history. He grew up here New Mexico days. Boy no longer. His 74th year. There had been round-ups From the wild places. Herds free to run Until the chase and Cutting off. The rope and bridle And saddle eventually. All but that pinto Griff had taken as His own. Took nine attempts  To mount him. Stable hands laughed At the rough And tumble. Their yells and whoops Only maddened the Beast. But they had left him To Griff, rodeo hero stuff A long time ago. Now he felt out of place. Aches and pains And slow gait. He would oversee The breaking to saddle And common commands And rein work. The men all knew His voice, manner and tone Would gentle most equines. The Owner knew this as well. Time saved Injuries avoided to  Horse or Rider. He kept Griff on. But insisted on the Right food, lots Of porch time. And little or no whiskey. Griff had once had That big problem. In the hectic loose, bucking years. * Image from film Cr

  His Dad is a big one  Roaring will  alert  the veldt  Zebras are stunned  At the  quick  jab of fear.  Vultures  anticipate  some  Good pickings.  His  mothers  all rest in  The late afternoon.  Hard  efforts  hunting  No  success  today.  Antelope were too quick  On the turns.  Guinea fowl had  burrows   To borrow.  Late  afternoon  sun  Backing an acacia  Will  bring  on the  sleepy  eyes  In a few moments.  Not much  physical  stuff today  Too hot, and smarting  From discipline.  Yesterday Cub had  Wandered too far.  Had  almost  been gored  By an  indignant  warthog.  Mother not amused.  Enemy downed  With one slash.