she saddles
her horse, makes
an adjustment on her
stirrups, lets them out, her
legs have grown like her blue
healer pups since her last ride,

she's extending
her religion, flask of
whiskey, that truck in the
feedlot converted into an
amish buggy, her neighbors
dressed for Sunday services,
she rides by tipping her hat, she's
riding fences so she can mend broken
barbwire,

like the
first crusaders on
the scene at the first
sight of the walls of Jerusalem,
she's soul-enraptured, missionaries,
gold seekers and stagecoaches where
Billy the Kidd was captured, the cowgirl rides
away, the wind blowing through the sage, thank
time's mercy we're all on the same page,

adjustments...

Lyrics by: Copyright 4.18.2010 Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist