Ethelbert in No Man's Land

Up the Cutoff trail we wuz ridin'
on 'at cold November day;
black mesas growing darker
an' the clouds a-turnin gray.

We headed straight fer this flat-top,
an' stopped 'long its southern wall
whar we hitched an' fed the horses,
safe from the wind an' the squall.

Then up 'at mesa we clambered,
an' under some scrub oak trees
we watched the storm approachin'
an' commenced to pert' near freeze.

Oh an' tumbleweeds was a tumbling
lickety-split down the plain!
Seemed like hundreds was rollin'
cross the prairie whar once they'd lain.

An' the sky ahead grew dusty;
an' the wind blew harder still.
Our horses below was a callin'
to see if'n we'd had our fill.

So we watched as long as we dared to
at a sight 'at few ever saw,
then we scampered offa 'at flat-top;
a tumbling ourselves down a draw.

Now many a year has come callin'
since them days a long time ago,
yet 'at tumbleweed storm Ire 'member
as if it was yesterdee tho!

Next poem: Take Holt a’ These Words in Yer Heart

Author: Jerry Dan Deutschendorf
from: Red Earth Whisperings
Part II: The Old Timer