Page 209

By Jack Joseph Smith

Cowboy Song When I was on the range, saddled such I saw black clouds,, and buffed white as well My saddle didn't care,, but I sure did A tuff, a mix up im the sturip It is my fault My cutt'in horse comes back Never ment to throw me To have the sweetness of the air again I guess is better than you don't know me When I was on the range,, as saddled such Black and white clouds Well as far as I can You know me

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

This cowboy song turns clouds, a stirrup mishap, a returning horse, air, and recognition into a rough account of fault, recovery, and the wish to be known.

The repetition makes the page feel sung rather than merely stated. The handwritten overmark adds visible revision or emphasis around the stumble, while the poem keeps embarrassment and self-assertion in the same motion.

Claude

Cowboy Song. On the range, saddled such. Black clouds and buffed white; my saddle didn't care but I sure did. My cuttin horse comes back, never meant to throw me. The sweetness of the air again is better than you don't know me. Well as far as I can — you know me.