march on, cowgirl


Pumps ain’t the knee high stilettos of

Cosmopolitan glamour,




They are boots not so much made for walkin’

But actually for talkin’, harpin’, and raisin’ hell.

A no-nonsense Kansas farm girl with an

Attitude to boot-


The holy-

And I don’t mean Jesus-

Worn shoes were just that, though,


The rawness was real,

The stubbornness like unchanging dusty leather

They offer protection, a force shield,

A firm blanket for the ideal of

Marchin’ around as she damn well would please.

Her body can’t wear those boots her legs don’t work she’s lost her mind

So I wear the boots instead

And with a




Her cowgirl spirit moves forward.



This piece was inspired from a recent writer’s workshop at Lighthouse in Denver, Colorado. The method employed in this exercise is known as “Ekphrastic Writing” which pulls sensory, emotion, and description from a tangible piece of art – a photo, picture, painting, you name it. The photo above features a postcard of cowboy boots. Expecting to right a fictional piece about a Texan, I was guided instead, to channel energy from the cowboy boots I wore for almost 4 years that belonged to my late grandmother, Jenny. 


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