by Stacey Mckenna

Created on: May 21, 2008

Rodeo

I'm thinking desert dust and slant trailers,
men who step onto fence rails facing the sunset,
sporting Wranglers worn in on the backs
of bulls, at 8 seconds a trip.
Boots that shuffle in
the dirt with the nonchalance
my mother uses to sift last year's Christmas decorations.

I'm thinking skies of blue gold and straight stalls,
women with bronc-rider arms standing on hay bales,
squinting into reflections
off a champion belt buckle,
fastened with hands that know their ropes
like an old lover's body.

I'm thinking glowing children newly sprung,
on yesterday's ponies, testing stunts
in the middle of a warm-up ring,
as the crackle of speakers announces
another rodeo day has begun.

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