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Another white horse just rode by. I guess I saw him comin'
I felt him breathin' down my neck, I heard his hoofbeats drummin'.
I've seen 'em pass this way before. They mark the separation
Of mossy horns from yearlin' bucks. Each one's a generation.
I saw one pass at 17, at 35 and 50
They rode by loud and brave and bold or snuck by sly and shifty.
They had no time to stop and talk or ponder gettin' older
They pushed their elders for a while then pushed 'em off the shoulder.
They stamped their feet and scraped their horns and kept the turmoil brewing
With no regard to consequence or history they're undoing.
Another white horse just rode by. The crowd is gettin' thinner.
I've got no urge to follow 'em, I'd rather go eat dinner
And spend my time with folks I love who'd care if I was missin'.
Where I can tell the things I know and likewise, sit and listen.
See, time has worn my edges smooth, a temporal erosion,
That keeps me outta useless fights and outta constant motion.
Oh, I still get my dander up and I still tell my stories
But you won't find me wishin' I could re-ride long gone glories.
Another white horse just rode by, but you won't see me mopin'.
My grandkid's home from school at three. I'm takin' her a'ropin'.
Baxter Black is a cowboy poet, former large-animal veterinarian and entertainer of the agricultural masses. Learn more at www.baxterblack.com.