Home at  the Ranch
I once had a big ranch in Oregon; technically it is still mine
but I have no way to prove it. One day and far from the ranch
was inspecting fences when a sudden cold storm hit, to
survive I shot my horse cut its stomach open and crept inside
and quickly fell asleep. Woke up when the storm was over
I looked for my horse it was not there perhaps the wolves…?
Trotted home the ranch hands were glad to see me and gave me
carrots, although I neighed they put me in the corral with other
horses that knew who I was and shunned me.
My widow cried, and I stood outside her window that brought
tears in people’s eyes and they gave me apples to eat.
Now that she was the owner and had much responsibility she
used me to get around, it thrilled me to have her on my back
but was careful not to show uncalled for excitement.

Then tragedy struck she got a friend, the foreman on
the ranch a man I didn't like and was thinking of firing.
my intense jealousy made me furious and one day when they
were making love under an oak by the river, I kicked them both
to death and galloped to the far blue mountain as I know from
experience there is no justice for wild horses.