There is some that like the city—
Grass that's curried smooth and green,
Theaytres and stranglin' collars,
Wagons run by gasoline—
But for me it's hawse and saddle
Every day without a change,
And a desert sun a-blazin'
On a hundred miles of range.
Just a-ridin', a-ridin'—
Desert ripplin' in the sun,
Mountains blue among the skyline—
I don't envy anyone
When I'm ridin'.
Badger Clark...South Dakota Poet Laureate
Photo by Robin Lee Reinhold