Virgil Chabre Poetry

Virgil Chabre Poetry Virgil Chabre Poetry Virgil Chabre Poetry
  • Home
  • Biography
  • Announcements
  • Writings
  • Native American Poems
  • My Eyes Have Failed Me
  • Mending Fences
  • Desperate Characters
  • Favorite Poems
  • Poemography
  • More
    • Home
    • Biography
    • Announcements
    • Writings
    • Native American Poems
    • My Eyes Have Failed Me
    • Mending Fences
    • Desperate Characters
    • Favorite Poems
    • Poemography

Virgil Chabre Poetry

Virgil Chabre Poetry Virgil Chabre Poetry Virgil Chabre Poetry
  • Home
  • Biography
  • Announcements
  • Writings
  • Native American Poems
  • My Eyes Have Failed Me
  • Mending Fences
  • Desperate Characters
  • Favorite Poems
  • Poemography

Mending Fences

Mending Fences

Mending Fences II

Mending Fences II

The Autumn wind blew a cool breeze

across the Wyoming horizon.

The wind echoed a chill signaling the coming winter.

The winter is always a challenge

for a rancher trying to survive

against what nature has to throw at him.

This is especially true in the Wyoming

Wind River Mountains. It is a beautiful range

of endless pines and priceless wildlife 

but the harsh winter

can be judged by the amount of snow

left on Gannet Peak after the summer.

The beautiful Gannett Peak, the highest point

in Wyoming, can be viewed from the ranch.


I just got back from Paris.

A vacation I always wanted to go on.

Sometimes it was against my better judgment.

I had few people I would call friends.

So I went alone.

I like it much better that way.

No one to hold me back.

No one to give me advice.

I would enjoy the solitude of my loneliness.

I could just be myself.

Plus, I always wanted to go and see the place

of my ancestors and maybe even find

lost relatives who can give me an insight

to my past and maybe even provide me some

knowledge I can use about my future.


My parents never talked much about

their history. I just knew they

were from a family of ranchers.

They crossed the ocean in hopes of achieving

their dreams.

They ended up in Wyoming.

That is another story.

The trip to Paris would present a situation

that changed my life forever.

I still try and put it into a perspective.

But it remains something I cannot comprehend.

Some people have a strong effect on your life

and you do not realize it at the time.

But as time goes by you see things 

that you never have seen before.

Or maybe, you do not see them at all.


After all, sometimes it is hard to believe your eyes.

In the distance I heard the shutting of a door.

I knew then my life would be changed forever.

There were times when I went through that door

Always knowing I would return and my life

would be as normal as could be.

But today it was different.

The door closed and would never open again.

I can blame a lot of people for the door closing,

But must focus on where I go from here.

I must find a new place where I can really

Be who I am.


That is if I ever find out

Who I really am.

There is so much confusion surrounding me now.

I am not sure which direction to focus on.

I am lost.

Perhaps there is a new door waiting to be opened

But finding that door may be a difficult task.

Most doors in my life were on the other side

of the door that closed.

In fact, I must go back to the last person I saw

before the door closed.

She was someone I met in Paris.

Paris, the city of love,

I met her when she walked out

of the Cathedral of Notre Dame.

We shared some moments at a sidewalk cafe

Mending Fences II

Mending Fences II

Mending Fences II

before she went on to haunt me, 

when I was just trying to search for lost relatives.

Somehow, I got caught up in her dreams.

I believed she was special.

Someone I would never forget

I was right but for all the wrong reasons.

It is all a haze.


But I remember the dreamer from Kentucky.

Speed on her mind.

Race horses, fast cars and a shadow

that could not keep up with her.

The intense look in her eyes.

The sweet smell of a yellow rose.

A cowboy hat on the bed post.

Cowboy boots in the corner of the room.

Torn jeans on the back of a chair.

The touch of her hand,

taste of her lips,

silkiness of her skin,

sound of her heartbeat,

and the dim light reflecting her silhouette.

I was never the same when I got back to the States.


I remember the first time she haunted me.

I was repairing a fence on the Wyoming range.

A horse came riding by.

A race horse kicking up dust and heading

straight for the fence.

I rubbed my eyes and shuttered as the horse

approached the fence,

crashing into barbed wire

the rider thrown off a cowboy hat

in the air with a yellow rose,

a horse hitting the ground sliding

across the Wyoming prairie.

Dust and the sound of an animal in pain.

A lost rider lying motionless on the ground.


I jumped up and ran towards her.

Blinked my eyes and she was gone.

I rubbed my eyes.

My heartbeat out of control.

The Wyoming wind was the only thing 

I felt and heard.

A tumble weed rolled by.

I looked at the fence.

It was badly damaged.

I rubbed my eyes again.

Looked at the fence.

I had another part of the fence to repair.


I felt a chill go through me

as the Wyoming wind

could be felt on my face.

I fell to the ground

for answers

as the horse and rider were gone.

I laid there in silence

suddenly I could hear the echo

of a horse riding away

Or were my ears now failing me.

Copyright © 2018 Virgil Chabre Poetry  - All Rights Reserved.


Powered by GoDaddy