Tail That’s Light by HENRY REALBIRD

Goin’ on fresh snow, Snow’s been fallin’ Several days, The ground, all is white, Sagebrush tops Stickin’ out of snow; Ridin’ through snow, it’s quiet River where it goes. Just the trees are black, The ground, all is white; Where there are pine trees It’s sorta blue, almost black Still farther beyond Wolf Teeth Mountains, pine trees are blue, There’s nothing but the cold wind Look sorta like smoke; Ash trees, where they’re thick It is black. Gray I’m ridin’, His breath is white, Gray . . . ground he is like this day. My song, I’m singin’ Lookin’ around Where the sun appears Pink, peeps out of blue sky; Goin’ to get many horses Ridin’ gray, they won’t see me In white gray, blue black winter day; My song, I’m singin’.

From “New Cowboy Poetry” (Peregrine Smith Books/Gibbs Smith: $9.95, paper; 165 pp.; 0-87905-243-0). Edited and with an introduction by Hal Cannon: “This poetry is utilitarian--heavy duty, industrial-strength poetry. It is meant to be read aloud . . . . This book is meant to be carried with you in the glove box of a pickup truck, the back pocket of a worn pair of pants, even a saddlebag.” 1990, Henry Realbird. Reprinted by permission of Gibbs Smith.