The Shadow of the Windmill Blade: Turning Through Life’s Seasons

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

In twilight™s glow, the windmill turns,

Its shadow dances, as daylight burns.

A cowboy rests beneath its shade,

Where dreams are woven, and memories played.

Through summers blaze, the prairie sighs,

With golden grains neath endless skies.

The wind whips whispers, tales of old,

Of laughter shared and hearts so bold.

As autumn™s chill begins to creep,

The nights grow long, the stars run deep.

With hooves on soil that tells his tale,

He rides the dusk, where shadows veil.

Yet winter comes, a biting breath,

And every breath hints at the death.

Still, the blade spins on, through sun and snow,

A cowboys pride, in lifes great flow.