A Father's Day Poem

Boys Playing Cowboys

Boys playing cowboys, shooting cowboys;
Playing lawmen and bad men,
When nobody was hurt
And nobody died…ever.
We just picked ourselves up,
Brushed off the play;
And changed sides.
A boy dressing up as a cowboy;
Boots and spurs,
Silver six shooters,
A Roy Roger's shirt,
Red Rider scarf, and
Gene Autry cowboy hat.
My family owned a horse, Spooks.
Until he spooked once too often;
Spilling my Mother into the purple morning sage.
My Father shaking the tears from me,
"Cowboys don't cry! Men don't cry!"
Harsh words that upended
My child’s world.
A boy trading his cowboy hat
For a baseball hat, a football helmet,
And later a sailors cap.
All for my Father's approval;
Real or imagined.
The last time I saw my Father alive,
I wanted to hold him.
But men didn’t do that,
Not in my family.
When I was a child,
I loved to sleep next to my Father.
I loved how he smelled.
But that was when boys played cowboys,
Shooting cowboys.
When nobody was hurt,
And nobody died…ever.