They write books and take pictures

and talk like they're all dyin'out.

Like dinosaurs goin' to seed

But that's my friends yer talkin' about.

Like Tex from Juniper Mountain.

He carved out a way of life

where only the toughest prevail.

He's fifty-seven an' countin'.

His sons now follow his trail.

And Mike who still ain't got married.

At home in the seat of a saddle,

-a sagebrush aristocrat.

I reckon that's how he'll be buried;

A' horseback,still wearin' his hat.

There's Bryan, Albert and Floyd.

Cowmen as good as the legends

to whom their livelihood's linked,

Who'd be just a little annoyed

To know they're considered extinct.

Some say they're endangered species

Destined to fade into footnotes

like ropes that never get throwed.

To that I reply,"Bull Feces"

They're just hard to see from the ROAD.

B.Black, Cowboy Poet