drifts
complacent snow;
the
old mare braces for more
She
dapples, then greys
pawing
frozen terrain;
she’s
stoic, proud,
lifts a final brow
Sidestepping
frozen thickets
non-garish
in ruminations;
bewitching
casual forests,
beseeching
her master’s hand
She’s
fading now
a
bittersweet time;
silent,
still, dreamy somehow
her
master she’ll miss, molasses and whip
Her
memories remain;
she was
fashioned to serve,
created for adoration,
baubled, adorned
She sees
it now
through
wide-open gate;
it’s
waiting for her
the
celestial shore.
© ginamc 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment