Hawaiian Cowboy

Hawaiian Cowboy

Cowboy! Paniolobb
Flew in from Molokai,
from the ranch.
No orthopedists on his little island.

Thinking about his horse,
about the rodeo coming up.
Trick riding and calf roping.

Fidgeting in the doctor's office
his arm in a jointed brace,
waiting for the doctor to let him go.

Old for a cowboy,
way past eighty, I'd say,
despite his heavy, silver-studded belt,
the black ten-gallon hat,
yellow snakeskin boots,
pointy-toed, high-heeled,
from Texas. Cherished.

Boots to be buried in
when the time comes.

His tiny wife with him
in her 'go-to-Oahu-clothes,'
grizzled gray hair
flowing like a mermaid's.

By his side for 60 years
and not about to let him go alone
to the city doctor.

And not about to say a word
about the foolishness
of an old man with a broken arm
riding in a rodeo.