Dear cowgirl,

You are made of sagebrush and fire.
Big country and blue sky.

You live for the long trot and long days.
Coming home and pulling off sun hardened underslungs and white dust filled Levi’s.
Washing the grit from long hair while thinking.
Of that damn black cow.
You let get by you and the slinky colt.

You breathe and make that cup of tea.
Flip through the copies of Western Horseman from the 90’s.
And slide into the sheets your mother passed onto you.

Fall asleep.
Ready for 4 am.
And the white dust.
And long trot.
And happy heart.
That awaits you.

Dear Cowgirl.
You are made of the desert.
And history.
And space.
And time.
Never forget the long trot.
And white dust filled days.