This poem is the true story of a very simple encounter I had one day while riding horseback. It made me think about our pioneer ancestors and the things that we find that might have reminded us about what has gone on before. The poem is entitled, "Finding A Fence Post." I was riding through the hills one breezy, late fall day Counting cattle and enjoying the ride along the way I was in the middle of a pasture, quite large, I just might boast When I came across a single, solitary old hedge fence post It was clearly not a tree but a post that had been placed Yet, there was no other sign of human presence in the space I reined my horse up to a stop, as I paused to look around And pondered the meaning of this solitary post that I had found “How did this come to get here?” I sat my horse amused Had it been a snubbing post that some old cowpuncher used? Was it the last remaining vestige of some old long mend in fence? If so, there was no wire or any sign or evidence Had it been part of a homestead at some old settler's place? If so, what had happened that it disappeared without a trace? Had it been placed as a marker by some exploring pioneer Or a large pole for an Indian who might have camped right here? “An old fence seemed the most likely case,” I settled on But why was this post still standing when everything else was gone? The distant sun was setting, so I must get on with my task And I'll never know the answers to the questions that I ask Reluctantly, I rein my horse and gig him to a walk And ride away thinking, “If only that old post could talk.” Happy trails.