Horses

Someone let go of the reins

and just like that

they were lost.

 

We had always dreamed of horses.

 

We wandered the woods

all winter

looking.

 

We found them in the spring.

 

Half dead was the horse

that didn’t shed his saddle.

 

Someone could have stitched the sores.

Those people.

A vet.

Somebody.

But instead, they shot him.

Just like that.

From: Winter Poems: Building Sound

Available on Amazon

Originally published by A Thin Slice of Anxiety

photo: pixabay