The Last Bale in the Barn: A Symbol of Survival Through the Harshest Seasons

The wild west wasn’t tamed by sitting still—it took courage to follow the horizon.

In dusky light, the barn stands tall,

Its weathered wood bears witness to all.

A symbol strong of trials we’ve braved,

The last bale waits, a lifeline saved.

Through winters grip, when storms did roar,

We gathered close, just like before.

With frostbit hands, we fed our kin,

Each strand of hay, a tale within.

When summer sun beat down so fierce,

And hope seemed thin, our hearts it pierced.

That bale, like gold, in sunlit glow,

Became the promise of life to sow.

So as the seasons wheel and turn,

In every loss, we come to learn.

The last bale speaks of strength we find,

A testament to the cowboy kind.