A cowboy song-writer friend, from Louisiana,
Stopped to visit for a time.
We swapped some lies and points of view,
on music craft and rhyme.
He'd been on the road for several months,
playng little halls and coffee bars.
One of them modern day drifters,
cowboys with guitars.
We sip coffee in the kitchen
and watch two bears cross my back yard,
He remarks that them was the first bears that he'd seen this trip,
and he'd been looking pretty hard.
The bears are looking for wind-fall apples,
That singing cowboy is in search of a song,
they stare at each other through a thin pane of glass ,
soon each will be moving along.