Bolo Tie

He stood in line waiting
to pay for his coffee,
draped in a two tiered
turquoise bolo.
he wasn’t a cowboy either
far as I could tell.
that tie has a story to tell
about the airport being shut
down by a winter blizzard,
passengers pacing up and
down concourses, every seat
in every bar filled, eyes
scanning the news for a break
in the storm.
one man decided he had
enough of the waiting, the
nervous energy, the crying babies
and he set off in the snow
until he arrived at the
Denver Stock Show.
he wandered the stalls,
breathing in the pungent odors
of straw, manure, dander,
leather, gazed at countless displays
of western ware, boots, jewelry
until he saw it, displayed against
a black velvet cloth.
he paid for his coffee and
wandered off to a small
table in the back corner.
five minutes later, I turned
to go talk to him but
he was gone.