Empty Saddle

His saddle now is empty, his boots they are reversed,

As we kneel on a knee, a-waitin’ for the hearse.

His horse clops down the road, with an empty load,

Its mighty spirit slowed, where boldly it once strode.

Friends they gather round, the sadness does abound.

And there’s a faithful hound, a-sniffin’ at the ground.

His ride is near an end, just beyond the bend,

As down the trail we wend, to Heaven’s gates ascend.

A cowboy never leaves, until the work is done,

He’ll bring in the beaves, or buck out just for fun.

Tip your big old hat, head back out on the flat,

Just be happy that, we all know where he’s at.

LDT Sep 6, ‘21

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