This poem is the true story of a very simple encounter I had one day while riding horseback. It made me think about our pioneer ancestors and the things that we find that might have reminded us about what has gone on before. The poem is entitled, "Finding A Fence Post."

I was riding through the hills one breezy, late fall day

Counting cattle and enjoying the ride along the way

I was in the middle of a pasture, quite large, I just might boast

When I came across a single, solitary old hedge fence post

It was clearly not a tree but a post that had been placed

Yet, there was no other sign of human presence in the space

I reined my horse up to a stop, as I paused to look around

And pondered the meaning of this solitary post that I had found

“How did this come to get here?” I sat my horse amused

Had it been a snubbing post that some old cowpuncher used?

Was it the last remaining vestige of some old long mend in fence?

If so, there was no wire or any sign or evidence

Had it been part of a homestead at some old settler's place?

If so, what had happened that it disappeared without a trace?

Had it been placed as a marker by some exploring pioneer

Or a large pole for an Indian who might have camped right here?

“An old fence seemed the most likely case,” I settled on

But why was this post still standing when everything else was gone?

The distant sun was setting, so I must get on with my task

And I'll never know the answers to the questions that I ask

Reluctantly, I rein my horse and gig him to a walk

And ride away thinking, “If only that old post could talk.” Happy trails.