We hit a long trot out into crisp first Fall.
One missing yearling, out there, somewhere.
My mind full of business, strategy, politics…
frustration.
My big horse he just stretches out,
and leans into the morning.
Pretty quick the fog clears.
Up from the Earth steams clarification in
tendrils that twine up my spine.
Those rosy, red rock hills emanate edification.
That sky--that sky opens up, my soul expands to fill it.
We don’t find the yearling,
…but we do find a
way to go.
1 comment:
Just love your poetry Sue...
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