Cowpokes & Poets Hat

Ol' cowboy Ed wasn't much use on the cattle drive. Real broody sorta feller, and mighty creepy at night round the campfire. He sure could turn a phrase though. Not sure what caused him to become ill...we just chalked it up to the dysentery. Buried him just outside Wichita clutching the last thing he ever scribbled: Lo, my heart lies black 'Neath atmosphere so blue; For I loathe each pitiful morning  When I hear the cow moo. By golly, I miss that weirdo.