The Garcias

The Garcias
In memory of Scott Miller
KIA Iraq

Those old spurs had hung there in the back of the barn
As long as anyone could remember,
The old man hadn't drudged up all those memories
'Till one bitter day last December.

The new boy he'd hired on
Was admirin' them there on the wall,
And the chaps that hung alongside 'em.
Just admirin' was all.

But if he'd known the darkness in the steel
And the pain carried in that set,
He'd a-stayed far back from 'em,
As far as he could get.

"My son's…" the old man said, blue eyes misting over.
"Those old garcias rang like Christmas bells back then.
Makes this time of year hard, missin' that boy…
"He set down on a bale, ready to tell the story again.

"Was back in '69 he got drafted to the war in Vietnam,
But before that he was on his way to bein' great.
He rode saddle bronc ponies, set 'em pretty, too.
He snapped 'em out better than any in the state."

The young hand could see the pride in the old man's eyes
And he whistled low, "Musta been some man…was he your only kid?"
Sadness again filled the boss' face as he just said, "Nope.
Had a daughter, too. She was ten when we closed her coffin lid.

Drunk driver hit her and my son, just before he left for the war.
Never quite forgave himself for livin' but hell, he was only 19.
That was a hard year for me and the wife,
Reckon the hardest we've ever seen.

Son, you shoulda heard those garcias
When he raked the ponies down.
The day he broke 'ol Whirlwind
That boy was the talk of the town.

All he ever wanted to do was ride those horses,
Heart and soul against horsehide and buck.
It hurt him to leave but he didn't shirk the call,
In Da Nang his platoon ran out of luck.

They awarded him some medals and we buried him with those,
But I've kept his old spurs to look at once in awhile.
Never could quite move 'em from where he left 'em...
And garcias are out of style."

The old man wiped a tear and stood among creaking joints,
"Don't know what'll happen to 'em when I'm gone,
Might as well take 'em down and store 'em,
But I'd sure rather see my boy strap the set on."

The young hand offered to buy the spurs,
And the chaps that hung there, too,
But the old man just shook his head,
Said, "Nope, then I don't know what I'd do.

I reckon they'll just hang there on that hook
Until they put my wife in her place next to mine
In the spots we bought so long ago,
Alongside Josh and Caroline."

Those old garcias still hang in the barn,
No one dares to take them down.
On the sides in gold they just say "Josh"
And every so often the hands hear a jinglin' sound.

They know it's them old spurs
But no one'll swear if it's true.
That boy gone for so long is still ridin' saddle broncs,
Just out of sight of me and you.