I’ll Be Seein’ You
The long winter’s gone to wherever time goes
And the moisture this spring passed us by.
The cattle are looking for shade in the noon
While we’re praying for rain in July.
The almanac says that each day has less light
Though you sure couldn’t prove it by me,
But whether it’s heat or a bone-chilling cold,
There’s just no place that I’d rather be.
I rode in tonight tired and hungry again
And a steak sounds like manna right now.
I threw Doc two flakes of some timothy hay
And then walked to the house for my chow.
I turned to look back at the land that is mine
Far beyond what these old eyes can see.
I’m keeping the place by the sweat of my brow
And the blood shed so I could be free.
Their mem’ries cry out as I open the door
And I know I must answer that call.
I look ‘cross the room at the flag hanging there
Where I’ve written their names on the wall.
John Dorsey was killed in an avalanche high
In the Pecos near Barbara Peak.
We found him next spring where the wild bighorns graze
And the river begins as a creek.
Joe Peterson lies in Nevada’s hot sand
Near a spot they call Indian Springs.
No maidens bring flowers or tears to the grave
Guarded closely by a sentry with wings.
Rick Thomas rolled up ‘neath a jug-headed roan
While he’s chasin’ a ringy old steer.
The gelding tripped up in a prairie dog hole
And poor Rick had no time to jump clear.
Debosey rode out for the San Andres Hills
But George never came back from that ride.
He sleeps beside Gene up in Rhodes Canyon now
Where wild horses and cougars abide.
Nick Hack was thrown hard from a bronc in Cheyenne.
We all thought he was well on the way
To win him a buckle or leastwise some coin,
But he cashed in his last chip that day.
Bob Brown lies asleep in a field back east
Where his family laid him to rest.
The Lord knows I wept when I heard he was gone;
As friends go, he was one of the best.
So now every year on the Fourth of July
When I ring Addie’s bell for my friends,
I wonder if someone will ring it for me
On the day when my own story ends.
~Dale Page
Al Albrethson, 1921 – 2020