Inspired by this photo...
As the cowboy sat in the lateness of day,
with a silent goodbye to a sunset in May;
He no longer roped, and he no longer rode,
waiting in wonder, the last of his mold;
The outlaws were gone, the bandits forgot,
A silver star pinned wherever he fought;
Now all of those days were very long gone,
And everyone knew the sorry old song;
A crooked old lawman, brittle and frail,
Away from the plains his face had gone pale;
From a cold metal chair he paused before rising,
thought of his wife and wondered of dying.