Saturday, June 16, 2012

When a girl has a horse

Rolling out of bed, eating a piece of toast
pulling up knee high socks, a simple t shirt
those worn pair of blue jeans, hair back.
Driving down the street, sun shining up overhead
finally reaching the driveway.
Strolling down to the barn, out rolling in the field
hooves in the air, scratching her back, sits a
little bay mare, with her dished Arabian head
and the stubbornness of a Morgan, splatter of
white socks, a dash of white on her forehead,
she comes ambling up to the barn, sticking her head
over the gate and into the shade. A soft touch
on her white forehead, a mess of black mane
laying gently over her eyes.

She looks at me, she knows.
It's been a tough month,
an emotional roller coaster. She nuzzles, bumps
her nose into my arm, dirt and slobber
draping down my sleeve. I laugh, as I grab
her gear. My heart unloads as the mud and dirt
comes from her coat. She munches on grass,
but she knows as I sling on her saddle and tighten
the girth. She nuzzles again, hitting my chest,
taking her bit the first try instead of three.
I smile at her, she's ready for a ride.
Mounting up, it's like coming home.

For once, she doesn't dart to the barn
or refuse to trot. No, today we are a team.
Even after work is over, walking around the field
feet out of stirrups and just cooling off,
appreciating the sunlight, swiping at the bugs,
we know. Dismounting and taking out the bit,
she shakes her hair, flipping it this way and that,
those barn eyes so content as I begin taking
off her equipment. Little treats stuck here and there
she knows my pockets too well. The birds chirp,
a dog barks in the background, but nothing
matters beside her and I. Sitting on the grass,
letting her graze, we hang out, old friends
just enjoying the June day. Finally time
to go inside, a hug as she hugs me back,
her nose against my shoulder.

We know.

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