21st Century Cowgirl

Copyright 2011 by Sam Yulish

Mary Brett is still looking for a cowboy.

Her heart has been broken many times,

yet she feels that there is only one kind of man

with whom she can fall in love– an outdoorsman.

Mary Brett was a cowgirl once,

punched doggies for a local cattle rancher.

Years of sun, sand and wind

aged her hands, face and neck to a degree incongruous

with the rest of her young looking body.

But she was happy as long as she was near horses.

Unpopular in high school,

Mary Brett spent most of her free time with a horse,

a present from her father.

Now, some 30 years later, when watching old westerns,

she can and does point out dozens of features

of just about anything on four legs.

Horses aren’t deep, easier to love than people.

Mary Brett never married, never wanted children.

She liked the masculinity of men,

like rough face stubble and bulging veiny biceps.

A cowboy broke her heart early in life,

left a “Dear John” letter tacked to her front door,

and went back to his wife.

Mary Brett was educated–she held a Master’s degree in Wildlife.

She liked the fine things in life- art, good food, travel,

expensive wine that she pretended to know about.

She used to sing old Celtic love songs to me that made me cry.

We held hands and looked at the stars and the cactus

and pitied others not in love.

We kissed on the dance floor.

Our faces looked 20 years younger when we made love.

I made her a special lasagna dinner.

She hit me up with that ridiculous line ex-lovers use to soften the pain

“We can still be friends, can’t we?”

And that was the last I saw of Mary Brett.