By J. Douglas Hinds
“Nature’s Canopy” by Frank Biondo of north Scottsdale
The day you go they say is good
Dressed up in brand new jeans
They play the blues and bourbon flows
Along your street of dreams
And so it was for my good friend
As they carried him down the street
There wasn’t a finer human being
You’d ever want to meet
So sad that day the day he died
I cried and shed a tear
We were cowboys side by side
Friends for many years
But when those Saints go marching in
I doubt he’ll be around
He’ll be busy branding cows
Down there under ground
It’s true I’ll miss my cowboy friend
I hardly believe he’s dead
He rode a painted black and white
But the town he painted red
There is one truth to his demise
Be careful what you choose
A leftover bottle of old shellac
Mistaken for some booze
Now down the street his funeral goes
As sobs and wails diminish
He died from drinking pure shellac
But he had a lovely finish
Douglas Hinds, who was raised on a ranch, has been a frequent contributor to The Peak. He is a past winner of The Peak’s Write Stuff Contest and authored the column “Arizona Cowboy.”
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