In the cool of fall, in a rocky draw,
A rider picked his way.
He was roaming ’round, see if strays had found,
A shadowy hiding place.
When a sudden sway, the ground gave way,
His pony bucked and lurched.
And try as he might, to hold on tight,
The rider flew from his perch.
In a cloud of dust, colored red as rust,
The rider curled up in pain.
He’d seen before, when a man was gored,
How he drawed up just the same.
And he’d heard the cries, as a feller dies,
When he knows his time is gone.
While no blood he spied, he’s torn up inside,
And the cry this time was his own.
Then while laying there, in his death despair,
Something shimmered in his glance.
It was pink and bright, an unusual sight,
For a moment he was entranced.
Though in mortal pain, he could not refrain,
He’d risk death to know this spell.
With a painful heave, his broke arm retrieved,
A lovely cochlear shell.
He once heard it told, in the days of old,
How the glaciers warmed and thawed.
From the gypsum bleak to the granite peaks,
Mighty oceans covered all.
Then the earth up-heaved and the water cleaved,
All its bounty buried deep.
Till a pony’s trod, cut through ancient sod,
Spilling treasure at his feet.
Now he’d never seen the salty sea,
Never watched a gull on the breeze.
The desert sand and broken land,
Had been his world to please.
But now with this gift, he couldn’t resist,
The impulse of a child.
Who’s ma did tell, how a spiraled shell,
Bears a story strange and wild.
So he held it near, to his dying ear,
And somewhere deep inside.
Warm breezes spoke, and crystal waves broke,
Beneath a turquoise sky.
And as palm trees swayed, and guitars played,
He drifted out of reach.
From this world was torn, and his soul reborn,
Now he rides a pearl white beach.
Copyright © Jeff Hampton 2010