A Cowgal's Story: I Am A Cowgal

I Am A Cowgal

Sheila Carlson: Cowgal, poet, photographer (photo by Kate Gowing)

I smell of sunshine and sweat, of horse and leather, of dirt and cattle, with just a touch of wildflowers.

I live free as the wind and am more at home on the back of my cowpony than anywhere else.

Sometimes my hair blows free in the wind and can be a little wild, just like me.

The only heels I own, are the ones on my riding boots.

My boots still have blood on them, from marking the ears of the calves I’ve done and so does my knife blade.

My body may get tired and I may feel weary, but my spirit is strong and so is my love of this life I live.

I’ll fight for what I believe in, try to apologize when I do wrong, and help out anyone who is truly in need of a helping hand.

I don’t tolerate liars, braggers, or folks that try to take advantage of others.

I’m not perfect and probably never will be.

I’m a lil rough around the edges, laugh easily, work hard, not always patient, but I’m willing to share a smile with folks I come across.

I wont pretend to be someone I’m not, I’ll just be me.

Cowboys by any other name . . . (photo by Sheila Carlson, Cowgal Creations)