COWBOY POETRY: Big Green Tent

Bryce Angell is a cowboy poet. Angell was raised on a farm/ranch in the St. Anthony, Idaho area with approximately 75 head of horses. Horses remain an important part of Angell's life. Angell shares his poetry with Cache Valley Daily every Friday.

The day was nearly over, started out at early sun. Each horse was fed and
watered. They were worn and all but done.

The cowboys trudged while walking. Said, “Our legs feel just like lead.” So, they
shuffled to the big green tent in hopes of getting fed.

The big green tent had seen its share of war from years gone by. The cloth was
torn and tattered, not so pleasant to the eye.

The cold night air was frigid but inside the big green tent was hotter than blue
blazes from the wood stove’s open vent.

Soon enough the tent was full of cowboys spinning tales and offering heaps of
wisdom with embellishing details.

The smell of sausage gravy put each nose up in the air. One cowboy said, “I’m
‘bout as hungry as a grizzly bear!”

The cowboys grabbed their plates and then the nod came from the cook. The
frenzy jumped up to the food like fishes to a hook.

The noise turned into chomping food. ‘Twas something to admire. The cook
compared it to cold water on a blazing fire.

With bellies full the cowboys pulled out peanuts from a jar. One cowboy sang
some George Strait music from his own guitar.

The cook recited poetry. Another told a tale of an uncle selling whiskey, how it
cost him time in jail.

The cowboys all were smiling, spirits full and plumb content, while surrounded in
the arms of the old army big green tent.

Then one by one each cowboy stood and turned in for the night. The last one tied
the tent flap door with square knots nice and tight.

The big green tent was empty, but for only just awhile. ‘Cuz breakfast was for
certain. How that made the old tent smile.

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