Dreaming About The Re-ride
by Dave Rhodes
I dream about the smell of the sage.
My vision is on the desert at night,
The warm evening breeze hits my face
As I race down the trail out of sight.
Riding on my favorite horse
Over the tracks of honored men,
Trying to catch some of their feelings
And pay a little tribute to them.
In my mind I see the moon is full
As we gather together and wait
For the next rider to come down the line . . .
We talk quietly and listen for his gait.
What is it that pulls us all here?
Who were these boys, now dead?
What did they do that was so great
To make us want to ride in their stead?
I can't quite put my finger on
What brings us to this ritual,
But, I sure do feel it in my bones
And have to say it's kinda spiritual.
The questions will remain unanswered
As my fantasy begins to fade away,
It's time to wake up from this dream
And get back to the work of the day . . .
Although, something's still tugging at my thoughts,
As I feel the excitement building inside,
There's only one thing that really matters now,
'Cause it's time for the Pony Express Re-ride!
©Copyright 1998, David E.
Rhodes