He sits front row at the rodeo 

And most of what he says 

Rolls off his tongue with a twang 

But he takes his tea 

In a mug that’s handmade 

And helps his mama 

Cleanse their house with sage 

It’s in your blood  

She says 

As he climbs his way up a mountain 

Feeling the western sun  

Against his bare back 

The soles of his feet 

Know the feel of damp grass 

Still wet with morning dew  

He takes his sweetheart’s hand 

Under the light of the July moon 

As she rests her head 

Between his collar and jaw 

He’s not sure if it’s the cowboys 

Or the witches  

But he feels them in the fall 

Of the leaves in late September 

And the way his heart tumbled 

At his feet 

The first time he saw  

How the light glanced off her amber eyes 

Her grip tightens 

He knows she can feel it too 

In the pulsing of his finger tips 

With each beat there’s a glimpse 

Of the medicine woman 

The war hero 

Lady Godiva 

Cowboys 

And witches  

Just beneath his skin