Sonnet № 124453
Dying breed
These rolling cowboys, map faced and gray
down from the mountains of dawn they will snake
stealing through night, burning through day
ride ragged canyons against burbling brakes.
Broken eared gargoyles that heavily brood
the thatches and thaws of transporting goods
cross bridges of thought that leave them undewed
while weaving through leaves and unmarked woods.
"Unskilled labor" the sign of the day
signals undying thirst for rapport.
A public not privy to docking ballets;
drivers are losing a country's support.
Marking their status with dutious time
devotion to lifestyle; their only crime.
11 comments
I think you mean "Broken", not "Boken", but I could be wrong. Also, "country's" instead of "countrys".
Have you read E. Annie Proulx's short story "Brokeback Mountain"? It offers an interesting theory as to why cowboys are a dying breed.
So now I have no choice but to reduce your score to a measly -10-
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