Heres a poem I wrote about Wyoming and that it is a real place. THE BUCKER I was born out in Wyoming, when the land was young and wild. Call me what you will or want to-- but I was born Wyomings child. I have walked her trails and pathways, I have flown on windborne ways. I have fought her blood-freezing winters-- I have caressed her summer days. I know her ways and wiles and wherefores-- but no conclusion can I draw-- Wyoming bucks the true conventions, running wild--a near outlaw. She raises cowboys and wild creatures-- draws them close and casts them free-- free to know her glowing lightning, high flung mountains, leaning trees. I was born out in Wyoming, here Ill stay through times harsh or mild. Cuss me if you will or want to, I am still Wyomings child. Jean Mathisen Haugen ND
Posted on: Thu, 08 Jan 2015 00:51:20 +0000
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