RIO RICO CAFÉ
Clayton Anderson Bell
Dust creeps under the loose fit door,
Cowboy tracks across its floor,
Coffee hot and beans on boil,
Welcome all who sweat and toil.
Saddle horses tied by on rails,
Mop and bucket and spittoon pails,
Cups and saucers cracked by time,
Aprons soiled from white to grime.
Smoke hangs heavy, fans move slow,
Shuffling in and shuffling go,
Feet of the western land so dry,
Weather too hot, no tears to cry.
A Quarter horse, a dun, a black,
An old Ford pick-up out in back,
Standing proud upon Texas clay,
The sun scorched Rio Rico Café.
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