Checkin’ Fence

Mountain rides this time of year, start with summer skies real clear, they waffle just a bit and then, you think it’s winter once again.

At least days are long without much pay, how else could they get me to stay? But with room and board an a lady friend, I get up each day and do it over again.

I tried the city way back when, with busy streets and smoke therein, it never really was my style, so I parked my ass up here a while. And though its been maybe longer than that, the air’s still fresher than a pine scent rack, the cows they all know me by name, for dog and me they all make way.

Among the stock and the coyotes too, every fence line from here to you, forgotten the days and miles trod, but each spot marked with a quiet nod.