A Time

I do not understand this metaphor
That crashes and smashes and thrashes
Through my waking daydreams.
I see him plain as a cloudless day,

The bronco buster cowboy man
With kack and tack and on hoss back,
Rolling with Hell-bound abandon.
It is like a child frolicking at play.

And I can never be like this one,
Just as free, just to be, just me,
For I do not comprehend myself
Wanting a time that has died died away.