Couldn't resist posting this bit of original cowboy poetry from northern Nevada. Hope you enjoy.

REINCARNATION

"What is reincarnation?" a cowboy asked his friend.

"Well, it starts," his old pal tells him, "when your life comes to an end.

They wash your neck an' comb your hair an' clean your fingernails,

then they sticks you in a padded box, away from life's travails.

Now the box an' you goes in a hole that's been dug in the ground,

and reincarnation starts, my friend, when they plant you 'neath that mound.

The clods melts down, as does the box, an' you who are inside,

and that's when you're beginning your transformation ride.

And in a while, the grass will grow upon that render'd mound,

until some day upon that spot, a lonely flower is found.

And then a horse might wander by and graze upon that flower

that once was you an's now become your vegetative bower.

Well, the flower that the horse done ate, along with his other feed,

makes bones and fat and muscle, essential to this steed.

But there's a part that he can't use an' so it passes through,

and there it lies upon the ground, this thing that once was you.

And if by chance I happen by an' see this on the ground,

I'll stop awhile and ponder on this object I have found,

And I'll think about reincarnation, an' life an' death and such,

and I'll go away concluding, "Heck, you ain't changed that much!"