Bryce Angell is a cowboy poet. Angell was raised on a farm/ranch in the St. Anthony, Idaho area with approximately 75 head of horses. Horses remain an important part of Angell’s life.
Angell shares his poetry with Cache Valley Daily every Friday.
Getting old is not so bad. I just turned sixty four. And hopefully, with any luck, I’ll
have a few years more.
But one thing that I’ve noticed is my mind forgets to think. I heard one older
fellow say his brain was on the blink.
It’s called a “senior moment.” Guess that’s what most folks might say. Or a
mental aberration could be what I had that day.
We’d finished up our breakfast and poured water on the fire. Then we pulled our
boots and hats on with the rest of our attire.
And then we had to saddle up before our ride began. I’d put a saddle on a horse
as much as any man.
My horse was agitated. She just would not hold still. But I finally got the saddle
on against that horse’s will.
I tied her to a cedar tree and took a look around. Two cowboys had been
watching me but hadn’t made a sound.
I thought they both looked mystified. Was something on their mind? Then one of
them spoke up and said, “I think you might be blind.
“My Arab mare was missing, and you seem to be the source. I don’t know if you
realize you’ve saddled up my horse.”
Sure enough that cowboy’s mare was wearing my old saddle. No wonder she was
acting strange and putting up a battle.
I must have turned bright crimson red. There was no use denying. I should have
made a joke of it, but only stood there sighing.
Both cowboys helped me saddle up, but no one said a word. And were those
cowboys wondering if my mind was also blurred?
I guess it doesn’t matter that my seeing isn’t clearer. As long as I still recognize
that fellow in the mirror.