delbert wells: cowboy, man, adored.

i grew up with a cowboy in my life

a tap dancing, law teaching, treasure having cowboy.

not all little girls are so lucky.

he let me climb on him like a mountain

holding my wrists

up and up my little pink booted feet climbed

up to the sky

blue eyes of this cowboy man

those eyes that crinkled when he smiled

like tissue paper

his hoarse voice soothing like cotton

teaching me how to throw a punch

laughing each time i forgot

clobbering me with a hug

in which i fought to catch a breath

i didn’t mind

throwing out pennies on the street

for me to delight in

for him to witness

exciting and delighting us

with his adventures

of armadillos and horses

of town drunks

and mountains

of tap dancing in moccasins

of justice

the dog

who, though built like a little tank,

was unskilled in the art of defense,

like the man himself;

the gentlest cowboy in the wild west

my cowboy

rests now

boots on

eye crinkles

permanently creased

knowing that

in all of the living

and dying

and all that lies in between

he brought joy to a little girl’s heart

standing twenty feet tall in her eyes

with a movie star smile

and i will keep looking for the pennies