The Wagon


I’m a fence stretcher for the D bar D
We ride the south line Madison and Me
D bar D largest spread in Bexar County
We give this fence line our weekly bounty

 

Madison tells me we have to ride the east line today
Tells me that the east liners both sick or so they say
We’re so close I can smell the gulf in a southeaster
Blows it up like water runs in the Dniester

 

We’re at the junction of the south and eastern line
Blue skies and miles of barbwire unwind
The first half mile of fence looks pretty fair
Range wind blows thru Madison’s golden hair 

 

From under her black Stetson
Smiling green eyes and freckles messin
With the man in  me
And I ain’t too blind to see

 

The woman behind the shaps and Levi jacket
Glimpses of a silver chain and heart shaped locket
That hides within the freckles on her chest
Carries her sons memory there does her best

 

To keep him dear to her heart
She’s done this from the start
Catches my steady gaze
Smiles at me and her eye browse raise

 

“Ya see somethin ya like Dave?”
As forward as she is brave
She catches me by surprise
With her devastating green eyes

 

“Yeah I like yer freckles” I say
Leaning forward on her saddle horn her green eyes play
With me and end in a wink
“I think ya like more than thet” long eye lashes blink.

 

She laughs and reins her horse to the right.
Following this woman on her horse is worth the sight.
So we ride up the fence line hill
Across a rocky, dead rill

 

Dead since the last flash flood
Drains the prairies of her precious blood.
The fence line is still good as we top the hill
Madison and her horse are perfectly still

 

Standing in her stirrups looking straight ahead
Both hands and reins on the saddle horn instead
Of at her sides, she says softly “well I never!”
Riding up to her “ I never seen the likes of this ever!”

  

Mesmerized we stared at an old covered wagon
It’s wood bleaching in the sun like some old ancient dragon
Its fabric top now long gone
By too many visits from dusk till dawn

 

So we ride up to the old prairie relic
Its half missing wheels, a tad angelic
Long prairie grass growing thru the spokes
Two ox skulls in front of a pair of yokes

  

The motive power now deceased
Cut down before they could be released
Telling clues about this dark prairie incident
This wagon’s journey cut short was no accident

  

We dismount and tie the horses to the wheels
Madison runs her hand over the wood and feels
What stops her cold in her tracks.
“Dave this wagon was attacked”

 

“Yeah I sorta figgered thet” I said
Perplexed she backs up and shakes her head
“Oh I don’t like this David” she says to me
Her eyes shut tight so she can’t see

 

“The family is still here!”
She looks at me in fear
She grabs my hand and pulls me around to the other side
“It was here they all died.”

 

Kneeling down on one knee
Brushes dirt off of something to see
What lies under centuries of prairie dust
Like blankets from a death bed this crust

 

The object of Madison’s obsession
Makes her wonder about her accession
Whether she should stop and leave
To let the dead alone and the prairie to grieve

 

Over all her dead children from times past
From all the deaths amassed
At her front door
From Texas thru the Great Plains and more

 

And so she uncovers the skull of a child
And her green eyes become wild
And tears roll from those emerald eyes
“Oh no! “ I hear her sigh.

  

I put my hand on her shoulder and she’s shaking
Softly crying her heart is breaking
All over once again it’s taking
Her thru her own past aching

 

To be put to rest
Just no more heart tests
She puts the skull back where it was found
Back alone on this sacred ground

 

She stands up takes her hat off runs her hands thru her hair
It glistens in the sunlight so fair.
Her tears have made tracks down her dusty face.
I kiss her dusty forehead my lightest embrace.

 

I put my arms around her and give her a hug
She responds by giving my ear a nudge
With her aquiline nose.
Shows me her composure with this repose

 

“Let’s go and let these folks be”
“We don’t need to see what there is to see.”
And she looked at me with those sea green eyes
So I kissed Madison for the first time in our lives.

 

And she smells like leather, denim and the deep blue sky
So we told our lost family goodbye
And we rode up the east fence line
Madison and I will come back here some other time.

 

We only found one section of fence down
We fixed it and rode back down
To the D bar D
Two horses, the dog, Madison and Me.

 

 We watched the day die in a fire red sky
We watched a shooting star go over Madison and I
“There go their souls” she said
As she looked at me and cocked her pretty head.

 

“We’ll go back to figure this out some other time”
“You bet we will “she said as her eyes sublimed
To the present time’s brink
“Come on cowboy, I’ll buy ya a drink”

 

Dave Proffitt
12/17/2013
10:43 PM

 

The Pillars of Njörðr


 

 

It comes every time this year
Dim and silvery the pearlescent sphere
Roiling from horizon thru the valleys
The Norse God of the wind rallies

 

From his yearlong slumber
Twisting clouds asunder
Torn into wispy silver mare’s tails
Long delicate filaments so frail

 

Winding thru the valleys and peaks
Pulling fog from the trees into streaks
That caresses tips of the evergreens
Being pulled along by this hand unseen

 

Casting strange luminescence across the mountain peaks
Makes us believe in the Norse tales that speak
Of a wind God called Njörðr
Whose crystalline breath passes over the valley floors

 

Leaving dark and sullen shadows amongst the hills
Softly sonant it whispers thru the trees and spills
Down upon us all this Norse God’s call
Tis his duty to call us one and all

 

This primeval force driven by Mother Nature
Our planet’s original care taker
So I am witness to this annual sight
Twisting thru the skies skewing the light

 

Into silver and gold’s fading into blues
These colors coalesce and infuse
The late day skies
Fading into oblivion the day dies

Reminding me of Viking Ships and Fjords
And blood-stained, damascened battle swords
The red-headed maiden with piercing green eyes
The watch spirit over the old ship in the mist she flies

 

So I remember what The Mist Hides
Whispering to me I should return to her reside
To the old ship in the mist
Whose masts creak from the wind kissed

 

To seek What The Mist hides
Where an ancient Viking woman resides
Waiting thru time immemorial
This feminine watch spirit raptorial

 

“David” she speaks soft and breathy
Phase-shifted and pulsating becomes heavy
Upon my curious heart
“Thank you for doing your part”

 

“In your times of trouble I will be your guide”
“In your times of loneliness with me reside.”
“Upon the ship that the mist hides.”
“We sail thru time’s everlasting tides.”

 

“You, your Dog and I sailing thru Orion’s belt”
“Forever more into Valhalla we felt”
“That we should go or stay?
“And so I pose this question unto you today?”

 

Then my Viking beauty was quiet this day
And we visit her when my heart turns gray
And she takes from me and gives back
Parts of my heart that lack

 

  

The parts of her from me to keep her here
She tells me what she takes with no fear
That I make her feel secure
Her emerald eyes soft and demure

 

Watches over me and my dog from the ship
That hides in the mist of the mountain’s slip
She is always there
The wind blows her hair so fair

 

This daughter of Njörðr
This feminine spirit of Norse lore
Seen only by my Dog and I
Her father passing thru December skies

 

So I watch as the Pillars of Njörðr pass by
In the sullen December sky
And I hear the beautiful Viking woman cry
Tears of loss well up from those emerald eyes

 

Deep as the seas of time
Her fierce Viking love so prime
Enduring goes ever on
From dusk till dawn

 

And so I will never leave her
In times that are and times that were
One day I will see her in Valhalla
The three of us together in Nirvana

 

Dave Proffitt
12/14/2013
7:03 pm

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Loss


We lost Sissy back in the sixties
A bad chapter to our families history
I saw the loss on my parent’s faces
The spark of life extinguished that this displaces

 

I walked into the kitchen one day
I saw my Mother sitting in an odd sort of way
She was looking out the window at the old hitching rail
Her shoulders were slumpted and she looked very frail

 

My German Shepherd with his head on her knee
She was petting his head her breathing I could see
So I stood there in silence not intruding on her grief
And her years of tears has given her no relief

 

And she said “Oh Sissy” thru a soft muffled voice
Overwhelmed with that loss she has no choice
So I looked out the window at the old hitching rail
I thought I saw Lois and her horse’s old water pail

 

The loss takes it’s toll and plays tricks with your mind
Things we want to see become things undefined
And I felt invisible to my Mother and my Dog
Neither had seen me thru this tear stained fog

 

A private viewing between Mother and Daughter
And the Dog was there the ultimate soul spotter
So I walked in and put my hand on her shoulder
And she stood up and turned to me the beholder

  

Of the tears streaming down from her large brown eyes
Once again she had watcher her little girl die
My own sorrow for her I had lost my own grief
These senseless deaths give no relief

 

To those left behind
To the tears that blind
The eyes that used to see
Lost ones now gone from her,from me

 

I gave my Mother a big hug as she cried
Then she stood up, and wiped her eyes dry
She smiled at me and said “you’re a good Son”
No words could I speak my tongue was outrun

 

This grief stayed with her thru her twilight years
She’d ride her horse Misty to drive away the tears
Mom got old and had to sell Misty one day
And more grief to her poor old heart did pay.

 

Mom used to visit Misty at her new home
The new owner said Misty used to trot and roam
Looking for my Mother the day before she came
Her heart broken and she became a little lame

 

One day my Mother got a call from the ranch
They were putting Misty down that afternoon
So I drove my Mother out to this place
And my Mother held her head as she passed.

 

And the tears fell again from her old ancient eyes
Onto Misty’s soft muzzle and I realized
No soul deserves this much loss
Testing your heart’s mettle across

   

Heaven and Hell
This story of her to you I tell
Bears heavy on my heart during the holidays
This time of year leaves me with little praise

 

For Yule Tide celebrations and family dinners
Thank God each time the memories become thinner
But time only makes them become a little dimmer
Never to go away finally just glimmer.

 

I am proud of my Mother and how she carried on
Losing Lois , Misty and her brother John
I remember her strength and that makes me smile
And how Lois and I teased her all the while

 

Loving her at the same time
“I love you Mary Emma” on the cards we would sign.
So at least at Christmas Mom knew
That was our way of saying “Mom we love you.”

 

Dave Proffitt
12/12/2013
9:53

Notes to Self


Sometimes I wake up with some answers
To the questions posed by yesterday’s dancers.
It’s not that I’m very smart you see.
And sometimes I wonder what the hell’s wrong with me.

What makes me wonder about the strangest things
An unquenchable thirst for the answers brings.
Me to the deep end of that subjects pool.
I jump in over my head like that day’s fool.

Sometimes I get what I’m looking for
And sometimes I open some other doors.
Once in a while that will interest me.
Just depends on what’s in there to see.

If I get answers that I understand
Makes me feel like I was told first hand.
By the person that wrote the book
Smiling they watch as knowledge’s hook

Sinks into my mouth like some fish in a river
These bits of information they deliver
Some hard fought to swallow
The others flavored false and hollow.

Some people ask “what good does that do you?”
“If it won’t make you any  money then say adieu”.
Their total being driven by the buck
When the guns of greed went off forgot to duck.

 

For all of my interests I’m not a wealthy man
This makes me wonder if I understand.
What I’m really doing with my life
Fueling mental arguments this strife.

I wonder if looking for answers becomes folly?
Or being sensible and hoity toidy like some tea trolley.
Then I realize that I don’t care what others think.
Reading the books fills in the link.

Of not having a clue.
Or at least some answers however few.
Instead of bluffing my way thru a subject
Being able to offer some truth with respect.

 I wonder to myself if I over do things
With my hopes, dreams that my ideas bring.
Does this make others uncomfortable around me?
Sometimes thru their eyes I try to see.

What I look like to others when they look at me
And if I should correct what I see.
Lately I’ve decided just to keep my mouth shut
The things I know not seen on prime time smut.

Some folks need to see letters after your name
Before you’re worthy of their question game.
Even then won’t take your advice.
Not really questions just validation of their vice.

If they don’t like what you say
Non-believers if that doesn’t go their way
So I recycle all of this on a daily basis
Some things stay and some are in stasis.

 To all my friends who are patience with me.
This my explanation for you to see.
So you can see what the hell’s  wrong with me.
I’ve just smoked too many leaves off information’s tree.

It’s true I have a lot of interests
Which some women meet with indifference.
But most I think become intimidated
Fearing that they’ll be inundated.

Buy something they know nothing about
“How can he be serious?” they have their doubts.
“He’s in love with his hobbies there’s no room for me”
That’s a part of my heart with lots of empty space you see.

I think I’d like to have a lady in my life
I wouldn’t even mind having a wife.
But some of them want to make a new model
Of me and my life they almost coddle.

 Not happy with the current Dave
Want something else their girlfriends crave.
But can’t have because of impossible ideals
From the men in their lives that doesn’t appeal.

To their current idea of a man
And what he can do for them they don’t understand.
When I consider this then maybe I should be alone.
Maybe this old dog won’t fetch any more bones.

 So I think about this and it makes me laugh
Society’s idea of the golden calf
There’s a lot worse things in the world today
Than if I over do things or my hair turning gray.

So I’ll continue to get lost in my guitar
And someone will bury me in my hot rod car.
And I’ll read at night about the wonders of space.
 When I look in the mirror I like my own face.

Dave Proffitt
12/5/2013
12:34 am