The Ghost of the Ridge: A Reflection on What the Land Remembers

A cowboy’s trust in his horse is as deep as the canyons they ride.

Upon the ridge where shadows dance,

The whispers call from earths expanse.

Beneath the sky, a haunting song,

Of lives once lived, both brave and strong.

The ghostly figures fade and sway,

In twilights grip, a soft delay.

Their laughter mingles with the breeze,

As dust and memories find their ease.

With every hoofbeat on the ground,

The tales of grit and courage sound.

The land remembers each old fight,

Worn legends carried through the night.

So heed the spirits in the dust,

For in their tales, the truth we trust.

The ridge holds secrets, wild and grand,

A timeless bond twixt horse and land.