This Woman Is Dangerous
Confessions of a Joan Crawford Fanatic
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Horses (Azle, Texas)
The brief horses in my field were always rushing at me, or away.
It got to where I was scared to either ride or feed. Anything could happen:
The sun off the tin dish, the actual snake in the grass.
My neighbor rode much better -- bareback, behind her, we'd leap creeks
A dare, no doom, in each stumble up banks
The girl was bold; the horse, too. He didn't stand a chance.
I was safe as I'd ever be.
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