Miss Skippity Quick
Broken bones
To
Broken dreams
To ride no more
With the wind
We cage them up
To pace
On dirt
And then we wonder
The piles are endless
By the barn
In the yard
With no mercy
And the strongest
Yet most fragile
Will never
Be the same again
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A gentle breeze a quiet walk
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If you can come ride with me
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I've seen some do this thriller..
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Thought it was a major comforter..
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Persistently, a dream indeed
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THE CHELTENHAM FESTIVAL
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Poetry: Horseback riding
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