He first came to the ranch
in nineteen ninety two
It was his first year
But he sure wasn't new.

He had a few hairs
That were turning grey
But he still liked riding,
Though not every day.

He can handle the trails
'though he's short and he's stocky
And no one's complained
although sometimes he's cocky.

He moves rather slow,
Especially up hills.
And he's tends to be stubborn
In a test of wills.

His name you may know
Or at least have surmised
But don't jump to conclusions
For you may be surprised.

He's getting kind of old
And he's down on his luck
But he's still a great horse -
A horse named Buck.


Note: The year before this I had written a controversial poem about a friend (Felix) from Texas that I read at the ranch while he was there as a guest. I was told not to write any more poems about Felix the following year, so I wrote this poem about a horse, knowing that everyone would think it was Felix I was talking about. See the poem "Felix" for why it was controversial. I did frame a copy of it and presented it to him, but I doubt if he has it displayed in his living room.