I’m cryin’ as I write this
I feel like such a mess
wearin’ my cowgirl boots for courage
first time I’ve worn ‘em here
yet it’s the only fittin’ thing to do
I wanna tromp across the pasture
where the horses used to graze
and stand still in the barnyard
where we curried, combed and praised
those two horses of my childhood
Santas, short and stubborn
Copper, tall and true
how I loved them
and the time we spent
atop their steady backs
followin’ the trail you set
ridin’ double
or walkin’ side by side
trottin’ was for sometimes
gallopin’ hardly never
I’m cryin’ as I write this
nothin’ weak in that
you’ve always led by example
some lessons are harder than others
oh, how we both know
I’m writin’ heart thoughts that seem random
but go together ‘cause they do
got my boots and denim on
just like you

written Thursday, November 8, 2012
as I rode the southbound train from Normal to Alton, Illinois
the first leg of the trip

today is a day for favorite jeans
faded, creased and fraying
soft and pliable
curve hugging, not binding
way past “stylish”
not dark enough
not boot cut enough
not “skinny” enough
just right for me
comfort
the denim wrapped kind
with cowgirl boots for courage
countin’ down the hours and minutes
to my husband’s appointment time
soon we’ll know the answer to the question,
“What’s next?”

September 14, 2012