Before the Light
 
Walking in the cold air that blew against his face
a cowboy slapped his rope against his leg.
 
He made a loop just big enough
so it could find its place
 
when he got to where he'd throw it
out across some open space.
 
A nicker gave away his target in the dark corral.
He walked real slow and saw the horse as just a trace.
 
In the predawn hour their breath showed up
as they came face to face.
 
The hoolihan sailed out to find its mark with grace.
Another day had come to hunt the bovine, out some place.
©Steve Dirksen