DISCLAIMER~ I OWN NOTHING NO POEM NO PEOPLE!!!!!

~Two days later~

*Ponyboy's POV*

I sat on the couch next to a crying Chrissy and a grim faced Darry.

"I'm done crying lets go." Chrissy smiled sadly and stood, walking towards the truck.

Darry glanced at me as we pulled out of the drive way.

I daydreamed until we stopped infront of the church.

The three of us got out and walked inside.

*No One's POV*

Montana resisted the urge to sneer as the millionth person told him he was in a better place. Montana was ready to drink his brother away but was now content taking small sips of whiskey laced coffee.

Montana saw Chrissy and two of her brothers come in and went over to her.

She threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

"Everyone please sit." The preacher smiled warmly down at Montana and his brothers.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mississippi flip him the middle finger.

"We're here today to spread the ashes of Tyler Joshua McCoy. A friend of the family has a poem that would like to be read by Montana, Tyler's closest brother in the bull riding world."

Montana got up, puzzled, and went to the alter, glancing down Montana smiled to him self. Montana picked up the paper and folded it, putting it in his pocket.

"There's a hundred years of history and a hundred before that

All gathered in the thinkin' goin' on beneath his hat.

And back behind his eyeballs and pumpin' through his veins

Is the ghost of every cowboy that ever held the reins.

Every coil in his lasso's been thrown a million times

His quiet concentration's been distilled through ancient minds.

It's evolution workin' when the silver scratches hide

And a ghostly cowboy chorus fills his head and says, "let's ride."

Montana smiled as every cowboy in the church recited the words to the "Cowboy Is His Name".

The famous and the rowdy, the savage and the sane

the bluebloods and the hotbloods and the corriente strain

all knew his mother's mothers or was it his daddy's kin

'til he's nearly purely cowboy, born to ride and bred to win.

He's got buffalo Bill Cody and goodnight's jigger boss

and all of the brave blue soldiers that general Custer lost

the ghost of Pancho Villa, Sittin' Bull and Jessie James

all gathered by his campfire keepin' score and takin' names.

There's every royal mountie that ever got his man

and every day-work cowboy that ever made a hand

each man that's rode before him, yup every mother's son

is in his corner, rootin', when he nods to make his run.

Freckles Brown might pull his bull rope,

Casey Tibbs might jerk the flank,

Bill Pickett might be hazin' when he starts to turn the crank.

Plus Remington and Russell lookin' down his buckhorn sight

all watchin' through the window of this cowboy's eyes tonight.

And standin' in the catch pen or in chute number nine

is the offspring of a mountain that's come down from olden time

a volcano waitin' quiet, 'til they climb upon his back

rumblin' like the engine of a freight train on the track.

A cross between a she bear and a bad four wheel drive

with the fury of an eagle when it makes a power dive.

A snake who's lost its caution or a badger gone berserk

he's a screamin', stompin', clawin', rabid, mad dog piece o' work.

From the rollers in his nostrils to the foam upon his lips

from the hooves as hard as granite to the horns with dagger tips

from the flat black starin' shark's eye that's the mirror of his soul

shines the challenge to each cowboy like the devil callin' roll.

In the seconds that tick slowly 'til he climbs upon his back

each rider faces down the fear that makes his mouth go slack

and cuts his guts to ribbons and gives his tongue a coat

he swallows back the panic gorge that's risin' in his throat.

The smell of hot blue copper fills the air around his head

then a single, solid shiver shakes away the doubt and dread

the cold flame burns within him 'til his skin's as cold as ice

and the dues he paid to get here are worth every sacrifice.

All the miles spent sleepy drivin', all the money down the drain

all the "if i's" and the "nearly's", all the bandages and the pain

all the female tears left dryin', all the fever and the fight

are just a small downpayment on the ride he makes tonight.

And his pardner in this madness that the cowboy's call a game

is a ton of buckin' thunder bent on provin' why he came

but the cowboy never wavers he intends to do his best

and of that widow maker, he expects of him no less.

There's a solemn silent moment that every rider knows

when the time stops on a heartbeat like the earth itself was froze

then all the ancient instinct fills the space between his ears

til the whispers of his phantoms are the only thing he hears.

When you get down to the cuttin' and the leather touches hide

and there's nothin' left to think about, he nods and says, "outside!"

Then frozen for an instant against the open gate

is hist'ry turned to flesh and blood, a warrior incarnate.

And while they pose like statues in that flicker of an eye

there's somethin' almost sacred, you can see it if you try.

It's guts and love and glory-one mortal's chance at fame

his legacy is rodeo and cowboy is his name."

"Amen boy!" Bobby Moss shouted from the back row.

Amens followed throughout the church, they all filed out of the church as Race set the urn containing his brother's ashes on the pedestal.

The preacher walked to the pedestal and picked up the urn and took off the lid. "Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, Tyler McCoy your dead to us."

He set the urn down and walked back into the church.

~A few hours later~

Montana smiled as he sifted the ashes onto the dirt of the rodeo arena.

"What are you doing?" Montana turned to see Chrissy looking at him trying to fight the tears in her eyes.

"Spreading his ashes." Montana croaked, he was entirely too close to crying.

She bent down to run her hand across dirt. "So he died right here?"

"Yeah." Montana glanced up at the sky and blew out the breath he had no idea he was holding.

"He's in a better place." Chrissy offered sadly.

This time Montana didn't fight the urge to sneer.

"Guess you heard that one to many times today, huh?" Chrissy giggled.

"Yeah." Montana nodded and glanced at her. "It was all so sudden you know."

"Yeah, but some how i think it was meant to happen ya know?"

Montana smirked and nodded.

"Could you walk me home? I don't like walking the street at night by myself." Chrissy glanced around nervously.

"Sure. Its what Ty'd do." Montana said softly lowering his gaze to the ground.

"You miss him don't you?" Chrissy asked, tilting his head up.

"Yeah, i guess. I can't replace him for you Chrissy but I can try to make it better." Montana stood and helped her to her feet.

"I bet you could." Chrissy looked up into his eyes and Montana closed the few inches separating his lips and hers.

THE END!!!!

~A\N~ ME DID IT!!!!! ITS COMPLETE HOT DAMN ITS COMPLETE!!!!!! I never thought I'd finish ya know, Never did. Let me know if ya think I should make a Sequel!!!!!!!

-JustinMcBrideCSNStevesGurl

~CW a.k.a. Slim McCoy~ 11/29/03