He rises early, with the sun
and knows he'll work till day is done,
at building fence and stretching wire,
and tending cattle to earn his hire.

He ambles off when breakfast's through 
to see the sights that this day new
has brought to him, and what a sight
when sun has triumphed over night.

The moon holds on, but starts to haze
as east sky brightens with a blaze
of brilliant orange and reds and yellow,
sometimes it's good to be this fellow.

But there is oh so much to do 
because these cows depend on you
so off you go at breakneck speed
to get them water, salt and feed. 

But why would one take on so much
of dirty, thankless work and such?
The pay's no good, the foreman's rough,
but that's your job. A cowboy's tough.

You work all day, no coffee breaks,
and when night comes, your body aches
as coyotes wail and night birds sing,
you wouldn't swap for anything.

You have the job you love to do
it's not for everyone, but you
have found the place you need to be
here on the range, where man's still free.

                        Bill Golden



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