Wednesday, August 20, 2008

The Railhead


Painting by Carl Joseph Shinkaruk

The Railhead

They thundered into the stockyards
like a churnin’ red river of hides,
They was bawlin’ and sweaty and panic’d
half wild, and crazy-eyed.

When the train pulled in from the railhead
we pushed ‘em on. Wedged ‘em in tight.
Run ‘em up ramps like they was learnin’ to dance,
moved out nine hundred head the first night.

We was hootin’ and hollerin’, wavin’ our hats.
They was balky and testin’ our mettle.
But at last the big doors was rammed shut and bolted
and the clouds of dust started to settle.

And after three months of sleepin’ in saddles,
livin’ on biscuits and spit,
We had ‘em in boxcars. The train pulled away,
and the boss divvied up our script.

Turtle and “Lasses had wives back in Texas,
so they left soon as we’d been paid.
But most of the boys made use of their wages
in the bars for a couple of days.

Then, sayin’ he had plans with a feller in Utah,
Red left, with a nod and a smile,
And the boss bought a ticket and headed to “Frisco.
Had a sister he’d not seen in a while.

Then Dave headed out, takin’ Pelican with him,
and Sal signed with an outfit near town.
Dumplin’ looked lonesome, but when I asked him he said
he was ponderin’ stickin’ around.

Said the blacksmith had offered to give him a job,
teach him shoein’ when business got slow.
Then Shorty and Pete both got to their feet.
They’d been thinkin’’bout Mexico.

So there weren’t no one left to ride home with,
and ‘sides, there weren’t no one at home.
So I cinched my old kack on the back of my gray
and struck out for Montana alone.

And in the years since I rode with that outfit,
I’ve done all right. My life has been good.
I married my darlin’ and got me two boys
who are livin’ their lives like they should.

But when I think back on that grand illusion,
those heroes who were mortal men,
If I had one day of my life to relive,
I know I’d ride with that outfit again.

Jo Lynne Kirkwood © Copyright

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