Appearances Can Be Deceiving

He was a slight man,
always kept his hair combed
and his moustache trimmed; 
usually dressed in a crisp white shirt 
and fancy waistcoat.
 
If you met him on the street
he’d politely nod his head 
and offer his soft spoken greeting
of  Mornin’ Ma’am or Evenin’ Sir,
but further words were rare. 

He walked with confidence
and a grace that added 
mystery to the air,
for he seemed so out of place
in this back-country cowboy town.  

Womenfolk whispered 
after he had passed,
surmizing who this man might be,
and from what distant land
he had arrived.

Some said he was a minister
or teacher for the school;
banker, lawyer, textile merchant,
having ridden on the rails,
his wealth made in the East.

But none who saw him ever realized
the skill and courage in his hands, 
for he could tame wild horses 
like none other in the land,
breaking broncos others feared to ride.


february 2005
©Janet Reid