Rustler’s Moon A hot and dusty night wind sweeps across the trail. A herd of restless cattle, they’ll never make it to sale. One solitary rider watches from a hill. A rustler’s moon overhead, his heart’s not in the kill. “I had a family once.,” said Jim, “a wife and child in arms. The fever took my sweet hearts, the bank took my farm. Whiskey took my honor, guns took my pride. I’ll ride under a rustler’s moon until the day I die. Annabelle, my beloved, if only you had lived. My life would be so different. I had so much love to give. But fate took you away, and our baby, Lil. My heart has turned to stone, my spirit’s lost it’s will. Living on stolen beef, bodies of cowboys slain. My soul’s bought a ticket on that long black train.” Another watches from the trees, a distant cigar’s glow. The signal from their leader, time for the wolves to go. Far away, lightning flashes reveal five hundred head. Four by four, the rustlers await the sleeping dead. Drovers in their bedrolls, rest at long day’s end. Four by four, the rustlers hold their destinies in their hands. Three ride the lonely night herd, sentinels of the crew. Unsuspecting cowboys, if they only knew. Buck, the youngster, sings his song. Tom, the old one grins. Pepe dreams of Mexico, while the wolves move in. “Annabelle, my love…” says Jim. “My heart’s not in the game. I think I’ll leave the hunt tonight and head for greener plains.” The wolves creep in closer, cigar’s glow burns bright. Pepe’s dreams are ended, a life taken in the night. The rustler’s moon overhead lights up a slumbering camp. Fires’ crackling embers warms the night air, damp. The trail boss spies the signal, sleep ends for the night. “They’re trying to take our dogies. Hit leather, boys, let’s ride!” Gunshots fired in the air, the cattle start to run. Four by four, the wolves attack, four by four their guns. One solitary rider had planned to ride away. “I heard that sweet boy’s song, he won’t see another day. He’s fallen down in front, pounding hooves abound. If only I can reach him, and get to higher ground. Annabelle, sweet Annabelle, this may be my chance. To save my soul from hell, and meet you in the Dance. I’ve got him in my arms; he’ll live to sing once more. But I never heard the bullets, above the stampede’s roar. The burning deep within my chest, the young boy held me tight. “Thank you, Sir.,” he sobbed. “You saved my life tonight.” “I’m coming home, sweet Annabelle. My soul’s been saved I pray. I’ve seen my last rustler’s moon. I’ve lived my last day. Bury me next to Annabelle…,” said Jim. “…and our baby, Lil. I’m going to be with them now where all is calm and still.” 6/05 |
