The Ridge’s Last Campfire: A Cowboy’s Final Rest Beneath the Stars

There’s something about the open range that speaks to the soul of a cowboy.

Beneath the ridge where shadows play,

A cowboy sits at dusks decay.

The embers glow, their warmth a sigh,

As whispered winds through pines reply.

His faithful steed, in silence stands,

A bond forged tight from countless lands.

With leather creased and weathered skin,

He knows this night, his journey™s end.

The stars above, like diamonds gleam,

Reflect the life that once was dream.

In every flicker, stories spark,

Of thunderous rides through trails so stark.

As night wraps round in velvet folds,

He closes eyes, where memories hold.

The campfires glow, a final light,

Guides weary souls to endless night.