Tis Damn Season

You’re a cowboy like me; riding your horse, 

Waiting for sunrise to leave for the city. 

Tis damn season, you told yourself would be your last in the cottage. 

Even the dive bar has a drink in your name. 

You look for a smirk in every smile that greets you. 

Tis damn season, you told yourself would be your last on rodeo.

 they don’t grow your crops, don’t even play your songs on the radio. 

You’re a cowboy like me; wishing to leave the small village in peace. 

Tis damn season, horseshoe rusted just like your blood when you told your folks about your sun-witnessed visions. 

The spark in you has become a fire and now it’s burning where your soul meets your bones. 

You wonder if you could be an eagle or would you be a knot in tangled threads. 

Tis damn season, you told yourself to embody your intention and not plan your actions. 

You’re a cowboy like me; tired of being grass beneath people’s feet. 

Ghosts tell you folktales when you asked them to hear ye. 

Tis damn season, you told yourself to use your lasso to cross the marsh of fervent believes. 

You’re a cowboy like me; left your place to find somewhere you could sleep with security. 

Riding your horse, you faded into silhouette. 

I promise that I’ll meet you down the road because you’re a cowboy like me.