Vaquero

As the sole hit the floor, so too did the caked on dirt The leather was dark and light, stained by masculinity The leather and sole were as worn as the exhausted owner The blood of his kill fills the crevasses in the sole. His heel had torn and eroded the bottoms of his jeans His spurs clanked as he walked the red dirt path, reminding him of better days. His soles hit the floor with a manly pounding And he knew his work was over.