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Now I lay me down to bed,
Stuff a pillow 'neath the head.
Find the warmest spot for toes,
Pull up blankets under nose.
Droopy eyes hunting sleep,
Never good at counting sheep,
Shoulders hurt, back is sore,
Live alone, okay to snore.
Stocking cap on balding chrome
Heating up the top of dome,
Cold outside, twelve below,
Howling wind, drifting snow.
Mice are moving in by score,
Hurrying, scurrying ‘crost the floor,
Hunting up a winter base,
Taking over others' space.
Pack rat found the puppy’s meal,
Figured it was his to steal,
Back and forth in fervent dash,
Building up a winter cache.
Bed is warm, mice at rest,
Pack rat nestled in his nest,
Condensing breath in cabin’s chill,
Snowstorm pelting windowsill.
Somehow, something seems amiss,
Getting in the path of bliss.
Innards rumble; what a wreck.
Got to make the outhouse trek.
© by Tom Sharpe.
Used with the author’s permission.
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Tom Sharpe was born and raised in Southern Colorado, where he started riding colts for hire at age 11. After college graduation, Tom traveled across the country working the cattle industry, from top to bottom, in 11 different states. In addition, his insatiable love of horses led him to showing Versatility Ranch Horses and working with young people in the 4-H program. Tom, who now lives in Loma, Colorado, has performed in cowboy poetry gatherings across the western United States and, in 2020, Arizona Cowboy Connection published his book, Hoof Tracks. A new book, Ten Thousand Hoof Tracks, is forthcoming.
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Wilda Morris:
What a fun poem.
Posted 01/20/2024 10:43 AM
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Larry Schug:
Thanks for the chuckles.
Posted 01/16/2024 08:43 PM
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pwax:
I laughed out loud.
Posted 01/16/2024 05:47 PM
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Lori Levy:
I can feel the cold!
Posted 01/16/2024 04:17 PM
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Tom Sharpe:
Jonah: as in chrome dome. I have had hair since I was 19.
Posted 01/16/2024 10:22 AM
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Darrell Arnold:
Excellent Tomas: I chuckled all the way through it. I know how miserable it is to have to brave the frigid wind and blowing snow to get to the outhouse. I also know what kind of tough job it is to do the cowboying in those conditions. Yet, a sense of humor is what helps the cowboy get through it all. Why does he do it? Because that's his chosen life, and he love it.
Posted 01/16/2024 08:40 AM
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NormaB:
Well done! Love the details within the rhythm and rhyme. I can hear the wind, feel the cold!
Posted 01/16/2024 07:30 AM
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Jonah:
Now! That's my kind of poem! (What does "balding chrome" refer to?)
Posted 01/16/2024 07:07 AM
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