Cowboy Poetry
The voices of working ranchers — verse born from the land, the livestock, and the life.
One More Shipping Day
By Wally McRae
Wally McRae is a third-generation rancher from the Rosebud Creek area near Colstrip, Montana. He is widely regarded as the poet laureate of the American cowboy and was the first cowboy poet to receive a National Heritage Fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts (1990). His work captures the rhythms of ranch life in eastern Montana with an authenticity that only comes from living it.
ONE MORE SHIPPING DAY
By Wally McRae
The crew has all been mustered, from around the neighborhood, A good half hour before the stated time.
The boss had said “six thirty” but every hand there understood
“On time” or “being late” are both a crime.
So we’re smoking and we’re joking as we idle in the dark, We’ve all cinched up and bridled for the ride.
In the eastern sky the only hint of light’s the feeble spark, Of Venus, up above the far divide.
Oh the horses, they are nervous and impatient at the wait.
Each idly restrained by men in chaps.
So they shuffle and they snuffle, test the near rein
t’wards the gate.
They can smell and hear the cattle in the traps.
Some have caught rotation horses, though the best one
they’ve acquired,
For “steady” is the rule of thumb today.
The boss will ride “Old Ready” (We all thought he’d been retired).
It’s his final gift to that old mount, I’d say.
You can see the frosty grass now, in the pre-dawn’s eerie light And there’s just a hint of light above the hill.
To the west a coyote caterwauls farewell to his friend, Night.
But except for him, and us, the world is still.
It hasn’t been no banner year. We didn’t get much rain.
But when we needed some, the Lord come through.
Looks as if our outfits’ll pay the bills without much strain
If the cattle weigh like we all think they’ll do.
To a man, we’d shy away from any show of celebration Of another round of practicing our art.
Won’t be no great orations, there’s a proud and choked sensation In every cowboy’s throat and ev’ry heart.
When they cross the scale today, we can carve another notch.
Tally up another year that’s filled with pride.
With three wraps and a hooey, drop the flag, read the watch.
Bring on the snow! We’ll take it all in stride.
The boss’s caught the stirrup. Ready’s ears are at attention.
In my mind I hear a piper far away.
Another day, another dollar. The sun is making its ascension.
We’re mounting up, for one more shipping day.
Cowboy poetry is a living tradition in Montana and across the American West. If you have a poem you’d like to share on Honest Cattle, contact us.