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?
©2010 Hubert C. Crowell