06/06/2026
My friend sent me a little video the other day to show me how wore this piece of wood is that lies across the bottom of the barn door at the feedlot where he works. To put it in perspective, you have to think that horses only come in and out of that door twice a day. How many horses would have to cross over that board to wear it like that?
The Timber
By John Tilley
June 5
At the bottom of the doorway is a timber
Where tracks from horses past still show a glimmer
Now, it’s getting thin and showing wear
The wood is worn down and looking bare
Each morning, horses leave out through the door
For twenty seven years or maybe more
Since the timber was laid, clean and new
It’s seen the countless horses passing through
Will the younger ones notice the timber is worn?
Observation arrives and from presence is born
Will they all be distracted, too busy and lost?
Will the outfits history, pay technologies cost?
It mattered to some, because it was their life
To get those pens rode for their family and wife
On Christmas or Easter those pens still get rode
Ride for the brand, that’s the cattlemans code
On the coldest of days, it felt the hooves brush
They came home tired, but left in a rush
Hands come and go, they’re here and they’re gone
The need to feed folks, is still holding on
Trapper and Skip and the wild Black Mare
Ty, fly, and App, left their own hoof marks there
The horses who gave their body and soul
To feed this great nation, are an intricate role
We say thanks to the lives of the heifers and steers
That fed generations all down through the years
A job that got done and we always remember
Each time that a horse goes across that old timber
