Biscuit & Me

This poem came about last year after my big wreck on Woodrow, who in the poem is called Biscuit. Waxes more poetic to me.

After I healed from my last wreck I brought ol' Biscuit out to the arena and saddled him up. All went perfectly well. As I mounted and threw my right leg over the ol' highback saddle, all strength left and it fell on his rump...which as you know is a signal to move ahead, which he did.

Before I could get my leg over he was at a walk, takin' my left leg with my foot in the stirrup by suprise. My left foot kick 'em in the side which of course means...we're burnin' daylight an...