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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