Trail Dust of a Maverick
He knew the West as only a few have known;
He knew the men;
He knew the horses too;
The swarthy, silent rider, all alone.
The cowman, and he knew what they could do.
The range to him was an open book;
The peaks and crags and hills - he knew them well;
He knew the secrets in each canyon brook,
And what the great plains whispered he could tell.
by Frederic Remington
I enjoy this piece so much because of the folds and creases in his well worm coat. Just as his face shows the wear of years, so does the coat he wears.
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