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Trees, Bees and Weeds 25 Poems. Click on image to order.
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Trees, Bees and Weeds 25 Poems. Click on image to order.

The Quiet Cowboy

Frank sat in his straight back chair, worried, was that a groan?
As the doctor examine his wife lying in bed next to the heater.
Was it the fever, or some other illness that's unknown?
The room seemed so cold, maybe she needs her sweater.
She had not been here long, maybe she misses her old home.
Lord if you'll just help her to get a little better.
I'll fix up the shack and make it her new home.
The doctor entered, it's the fever, I'll call for a sitter.
We'll know more in the morning, but it's the same old syndrome.
What could be worse, Frank thought, life on the range without her?

--Hubert Crowell

Photo By: Hubert Crowell

2010 Hubert C. Crowell