(this written prior to her recent accident)
I hear the joy in her voice,
Even though the camera
Doesn’t reveal her face
Or more than the back
Of the back of the head
Of a horse she rides
Now that she’s switched
The camera from her helmet
To her chest
Her voice shrill with joy
The way a young child’s
Might sound
Riding the back of a hobby horse,
On a merry go round,
Only this horse is real,
She feels it move,
Her legs rapped around
Its middle like a lovers,
I hear the joy in her voice
With each stride
And the thrill she gets
When her steed
Rises up a hill
Unexpectedly,
Her fingers gripping
The reins,
Though in her mind
I still seen her on
The phony horse
Going up and down,
Fingers outstretched
To reach for that
Golden ring
That price we all
Ach to get,
And she’s already
Gotten.
No comments:
Post a Comment