The Fence Post’s Stand: A Silent Witness to Time’s Passing

It takes a steady hand and a bold heart to tame the wild west.

Beneath the blazing, western sun,

A weathered fence post stands alone,

Its splintered wood, a story spun,

Of whispered winds and seeds long sown.

Cattle trails weave like threads of gold,

With hooves that echo tales untold.

The dust-storms howl, the lonesome cry,

Bear witness to the dreams that die.

Seasons dance, with times swift flow,

As summer blooms then fades to grey.

The fence post stands, a statue slow,

Through harshest storms and bright decay.

When twilight’s cloak wraps hills so wide,

It guards each secret dusk bestows.

Silent witness, by the roadside,

To all the lives that time bestows.