My Gift-horse

A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly

I scanned this picture, remembering–

mm . . .                                  remembering how Goldy made me hate riding,

how my enchanted love was turned to fear                   and disdain

in one youthful summer and fall.

What my grandpa was thinking,                I’ll never know.

Is it that     throw ’em in the pool and see ’em swim     kind of instruction?

Was it an ignorance of what thirteen-year-old horse lovers know?

Was he trying to cure me to give my parents a moment’s peace from begging?

Well, it worked.                                         Cured!

To a furious lover of all things horse,

he gave me an animal that required a choke bit                  and blinders

because she was hard to control       and           reared at every groundhog hole.

And now here is poor sister,        having mounted,                       excited for a first ride:

Goldy petulantly tears off through the front field, across the drainage ditch,

on and on;           and on and on and on and on;


View original post 189 more words

About apronheadlilly

wife and mother, musician, composer / poet, teacher, and observer of the world, flawed Christ-follower
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