Painting by Lorna Dillon
Bob Wire
Once the range was open.
The horizon was the fence.
The boundless grass for grazing
made all the difference.
They owned the land before them,
As far as they could ride.
They knew not deed or title,
Relied on trust and pride.
Their bed the ground below them,
Their roof the starlit sky,
Whatever they could carry
Would surely get them by.
Then came it barbed and twisted,
That endless strand of wire.
It left the cattle listless,
And doused the cowhands' fire.
© 2001, Larry Thomas
Posted over on Cowboy Poetry
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