Poem: The Cowboy

In the mountains of Wyoming he did ride, here came the snow drift and the frozen tide. With unsure footing he stumbled through the cold. His horse by his side and gun strapped to hip, his frozen fingers could not grip. With shaking chills that racked his frame, his breath a fog, his boots did shine with the frozen crystals of time. He got caught between Cheyenne and Afton in this blizzard of a century; on his freedom he was set to ride. Facing fences and chasing pride. The blanket did little to shield the frost that attached to every inch of flesh even beneath the clothing that wrapped his skin. He soon tripped and cursed in vein, on his knees he did stay screaming and begging for help that day. Within the moments the wind did whip a horrid stench did fill the air; a swirl of snow did consume the bleak atmosphere that could sign his death.

Published by N.K. Sterling

A sibling and daughter to some, a friend to others. As an artist , writer, and dreamer N.K Sterling spends days crafting new creations be it in painting or jewelry making or dabbling in many creative avenues in life from music to sewing has only made Sterling more inspired to keep trying new things. Enjoying a good book by the fire, or an adventurous outing with furry friends is always a go to for this expressive soul. Writing has been a passion since the age of twelve and the associate's degree in liberal arts has only help expand this creative mind for future endeavors while currently living in the southern USA.

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