At first glance,
The sky is black velvet.
A blaze of sparkling diamonds
some call the Milky Way
scatters across the blackness
from one side of the vast sky to the other.
Oblivious to the magnificence above them,
a pair of weary cowboys sit
huddled over a meager campfire,
lingering thankfully
over hot cups of coffee
thicker than Louisiana mud
and twice as bitter.
-----
At first glance,
the cowboys seem a matched pair;
everything is tan and golden
in the light of the fire.
Fine dust sifts from
the brims of their Stetsons
into the steaming mugs of coffee.
Neither cowpoke notices --
they're too tired to care, and it
doesn't change the taste much, anyway.
The brown dirt of the plains
neutralizes the once-bright
colors of their clothing;
Stetsons, neckerchiefs,
plaid shirts, blue jeans,
and cowboy boots
all appear the same shade
of soft weathered brown.
The same three-day chin stubble
covers similar sun-browned square jaws.
They even sit in identical poses:
broad shoulders hunched,
elbows resting heavily on the knees,
rope-indented hands
wrapped around the warmth of the coffee.
The fire blazes, and the
brighter illumination
reveals two characters so different
I wonder why I ever thought
they were alike.
-----
The younger cowboy introduces himself as Jonathan.
Underneath his squeaky-clean Stetson,
the only lines in his sun-bronzed face
are the two boyish dimples just visible
to each side of his thick brown mustache.
\
The tip of his nose is more pink than tan,
which adds a touch of innocence
to his otherwise rugged features.
his dark eyes reflect
the brightness of the fire
as he relates how he plans to put
his recently-acquired college education
to use on the ranch.
With the exuberance and self-assurance of youth,
he expounds at length
on animal husbandry in general
and selective breeding of longhorns
in particular.
Jonathan hesitates as his gaze drops
self-consciously to his fancy new boots.
In this territory, shiny new boots
are a mute testimony
to the greenness of the rider.
-----
The older but wiser boots at the campfire
have their own story to tell.
They are scuffed and worn,
embedded with trail dust.
The gouge on one boot is old.
It was vindictively put there
by a wild mustang
who wouldn1t be busted
until Jake came along.
Old Jake matches his boots.
He is the more knowledgeable
of the two cowboys,
and yet the more reticent.
Letting us persuade him to talk
about the old days of cattle ranching,
he begins:
"Most folks around here just call me Old Jake.
I guess I1ve been around here
as long as anybody..."
With a voice like rusty nails,
he weaves memories
over and around the campfire.
the hours tick by unnoticed
as he tells of events
which shaped his life.
he lost his family
and outlived his friends.
Range wars scarred him,
contests against critters
made his reputation,
and the hardest battle
- against Time -
he still wages in his own quiet way.
"When I was a lot younger,
they used to call me by another name...
but out here a citified name
just doesn't work very well.
In fact, I don't think
there's anybody living now
who knows my real name
isn1t Old Jake."
-----
As the wrangler spins his tales,
our eyes are drawn to his face.
His cheeks are like the plains he has crossed,
where deeply grooved arroyos wind their way
across reddish-brown, drought-broken plateaus.
the network of fine cracks in his leathery skin
reveal years in the unrelenting captivity of the Texas sun.
His Stetson has been shaped, trampled and reshaped
until one wonders whether he shaped the hat
or the hat shaped him.
I could sit here forever
under the star-strewn Texas sky,
but the stars are dimming
as dawn's rosy fingers start tickling the horizon.
It is only now that we notice Jonathan's absence.
-----
Jake stands and stretches,
and in the half-light of dawn,
saddles his horse and mounts up.
He grins in anticipation of
another day's challenge.
the dimples reappear
among the wrinkles in the parched skin,
and there in the face of Old Jake
We find the young Jonathan.
Understanding dawns upon us
as we watch him ride away.
Silhouetted against the rising sun
are a lone horse and a lone rider,
but two men ride out to meet the day:
Old Jake...
and Jonathan.
copyright s.m.chisam 1990