SH (01 may 1962 / U.S.A.)

A Thousand More

There's nothing you can sell me now
nothing you can tell me how:
I've been drunk in old Mex, near death in southwest Tex;
slept in the desert many nights through
right along side scorpions, mountain lions,
javelinas too.
I've seen Mississippi where it burns
and Arizona, where I nearly did;
I've ate rattlesnake, caribou and gator,
stood alone in a mournful wind
at the grave of Billy the Kid.
I've crossed Beartooth Pass in August
in knee deep snow,
been lost in 110 degree desert heat
with no water, and no idea of which way to go.
I've panned for silver, dug for gold,
I was at the big cattle drive
when Montana turned 100 years old;
I've been chased by a boulder
down Bronco canyon on the run,
flirted with a cow moose
protecting her young;
Hung for dear life from a 3000 year old Bristlecone pine
on a narrow southwestern ridge,
crossed a fifteen-hundred foot canyon
on an ancient rickety-rope bridge;
I've stood amazed on a red-rock cliff
seeing the planet a hundred miles out,
and the Colorado river so small, down below,
where I felt the touch of God when I realized
that old muddy water was the earth's beautiful blood flow;
I've come face to face
with grizzlies, a time or two,
seen the veil between life and death
open up, for just a quick view;
more than once thought
I'd pass through that door,
in one of these wild tales I've had
traveling shore to shore; but
now have come to understand, before I'm here finished,
I'll have a thousand more.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

Dear Smoky, Have you contacted 20 Century Fox about taking on Indiana Jones? I really think you could do it. I bet you don't sleep with the light on!