The Call of the Open Range
The wild west wasn’t tamed by sitting still—it took courage to follow the horizon.
In twilights blush, the prairie hums,
With coyote chuckles, the laughter comes.
A cowboy grins beneath the stars,
As natures jest unfolds from afar.
He tips his hat to the wild serenade,
The rustle of grasses, a soft charade.
With every howl, a joke is spun,
A dance of shadows neath the setting sun.
Around the fire, with tales they share,
Each crackling ember, a spark of air.
The coyote’s wit, so sly and bright,
Turns long, lonesome nights into pure delight.
As dawn creeps in with a blush of gold,
The laughter lingers, a bond of old.
For in this land where spirits roam,
Man and nature find a home in humors poem.
Copyright © 2025 Randy Salars
All rights reserved
All rights reserved