Sitting downstairs
On cool cement and warm memories
Around me
Sprawls years of my life
Bridle bits pads boots spurs chinks brushes saddles
Soaked with the heavy scent 
Of horse sweat and teamwork
Dusted by rodeos in three different states
Not yet stale from being packed away
But not quite fresh either
A lifetime ago I used these things
Weekly daily hourly
They were my life 
And then 
They weren't 
How does that happen?
Sitting on the floor 
With these pieces of my life 
Unpacked and strewn around me
All I hear is horse breath 
All I smell is dust and sweat and life 
All I feel is the blinding sun as I enter an arena
All I touch are the reins between my fingers
All I see are miles of road in front of truck and trailer
But those are just my memories
Outside the pastures are empty 
The fences falling
The roads to the next arena gone
Where did it all go?
Did it all go?

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