My poem, "Two Loners in Nature," was published in the November 2008 issue of Rocky Mountain Rider Magazine.
I wrote this poem about my Grandfather who recently moved to Montana. My Grandmother and he decided to separate in their older years, so now I really only have my memories of him, as he lives far away. As my poem relays, he truly is a loner, so I rarely hear from him.
Anyway...This is for you Grandpa...
Two Loners in Nature
They called my grandfather a loner,
A quiet and hardened old man,
With the dirt from the range on his clothing,
And a face worn and weathered with tan.
My grandfather was born in the mountains.
He worshipped the Rockies’ cold mist,
And he seemed most at home on his Pinto,
With the reigns dangling down from his fist.
We’d ride out at sunrise together,
With the sky still tinged purple with night,
Until landscapes consumed all our senses,
And the day bathed the treetops in light.
To this day, I remember the aspen,
How they shimmered and danced in the breeze,
And the leathery smell of the saddle,
As it softly creaked under my knees.
We were loners together in nature,
My cowboy grandfather and I.
Two people bound tightly by wonders
Of mountains, and valleys, and sky.
They called my grandfather a loner,
A quiet and hardened old man,
With the dirt from the range on his clothing,
And a face worn and weathered with tan.
My grandfather was born in the mountains.
He worshipped the Rockies’ cold mist,
And he seemed most at home on his Pinto,
With the reigns dangling down from his fist.
We’d ride out at sunrise together,
With the sky still tinged purple with night,
Until landscapes consumed all our senses,
And the day bathed the treetops in light.
To this day, I remember the aspen,
How they shimmered and danced in the breeze,
And the leathery smell of the saddle,
As it softly creaked under my knees.
We were loners together in nature,
My cowboy grandfather and I.
Two people bound tightly by wonders
Of mountains, and valleys, and sky.
~Brienne Adams
This brings bitter sweet memories. We can be happy for Grandpa Doug that he is in his true home in the west now. You have done it again, with your uncanny ability to bring words alive with the actual emotion of the situation. I am again in tears. You are truly, a gifted writer.
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