When Bill was a sprout
His Dad said "Ol' Son,
I know you are quick,
But it cannot be done".

"When God made dirt
He made it to last-
You can't blast it away,
Men are never that fast".

Bill said, "OK Dad,
You know more than I,
But if you don't mind
I'll give it a try."

So over the years
Cowhands looking down
Would wonder at trails
Of dust on the ground.

And say to each other,
"Could be cows I reckon,
With places to go,
But no sense of direction".

Bill's dad was right-
Dirt is still around,
But now there are trails
Where none can be found.

Just rocks and roots,
And sharp things that hurt-
Ol' Bill's blasted away
All traces of dirt.

Now he's old'n dirt,
And still on the gas-
Still roostin away-
Still never been past.

When Bill finally goes
Where ol' dirt riders fly,
I'm sure we'll see trails
Of dust in the sky.

10/30/2001

Posted on 10/30/2001
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