On the Ground 
 
The paint horse lie dead not far from the road
It surprised us to find it where it had lay down
How did it get there and die in that spot?
We were pretty far out from the last little town
 
Maybe a ranch or corral was close by
We couldn't see it from where the horse lay
Just my brother and me and a horse
Between a fence and the town Salome
 
We'd been up to Prescott for the Gathering
Had us a wild time nippin' Tequila
Tellin' tall tales and listening to others
Saw one strange guitar playin' fella
 
So there we were comin' out of the hills
On a flat piece of highway to home
When we stopped for a picture of cactus
a smell in the air led to this poem
 
The horse had been someone's prize
Had a name and a place to feed
Then something had led it astray
Where it died when it was in need
 
So we drank a toast to the critter
Whose luck had run out that day
Watching the sky for movement
That might be his spirit at play
©Steve Dirksen