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The Sliprails And The Spur

by Garnet Rogers

on Speaking Softly in the Dark (1988)

The colors of the setting sun
Withdrew across the western land
He raised the slip rails one by one
And shot them home with trembling hand

Her brown hands clung
Her face grew pale
All quivering chin
And eyes that brim
One quick, fierce across the rail
Goodbye Mary
Goodbye Jim

Oh, he rides hard to race the pain
Who rides from love
Who rides from home
But he rides slowly back again
His heart has learnt to love and roam

One hand upon the horses mane
One foot in the stirrup set
And then stooping back to kiss again
"Goodbye, Mary, don't you fret
When I return"
He laughed for her
"We do not know how soon t'will be
I'll whistle as I round the spur
You let the slip rails down for me"

She gasped for sudden loss of hope
As with a backward wave to her
He cantered down the grassy slope
And swiftly round the darkening spur

Oh, he rides hard to race the pain
Who rides from love
Who rides from home
But he rides slowly back again
His heart has learnt to love and roam

Suspect: And so, often, at the set of sun
In winter bleak
Or summer brown
She'd steel across the little run
And shyly let the slip rails down
And she'd listen there till darkness shut (shot)
To hear his spur in silence deep
And when they'd call her from the hut
Steal home and cry herself to sleep

Oh, he rides hard to race the pain
Who rides from love
Who rides from home
But he rides slowly back again
His heart has learnt to love and roam

And he rides hard to dull the pain
Who rides from one that loves him best
But he rides never back again
His restless heart must rove for rest