Driving home from the feed store
on a back road, easing my foot from
the gas pedal, the three-quarter-ton
truck coasts slower. Ahead, a teenage
girl in shorts and a helmet riding a
horse. The tomboy-girl twisted around
but dismissed me, only a gray-haired
woman in a farm truck. Would she want
someone better to see her, a boy or maybe
a farmer with a roving eye? Her bay
gelding stood square with his neck arched
as she searched the road. I steered wide,
remembering the bareback feel of a dark
horse on a sunny afternoon, the breeze
lifting his mane to my bare knee, and
wanting others to see me. Young rider,
some will regard you and your horse as a
dare, your pride as a threat. Bumping two
wheels back onto the asphalt, I give her
a bittersweet smile in my rear-view mirror.
…
Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward
Want more from this horse trainer who writes poetry? Visit annablake.com to see all my published work, online courses, and training events. Look for a new offering of poems to be released this fall entitled Horse. Woman.
What a beautiful poem Anne. Even if it does make me feel a bit wistful about being closer to 60 than 16. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. You have such a talent for corralling them!
Wistful. Yes. Thanks Sueann
And wistful being past 80 also!
Once a rider, always a rider. Even now. Thanks, Maggie.
Yet we are the lucky ones who have so many years to look back on.
That we are. Thanks, Lynell
I’ve gone beyond being that “farmer with a roving eye,” and hove now reached the point of thinking “damn, that’s a good looking horse!” I think I’m officially old now!
Mark, you have learned something from all those longears.
Thanks Mark, your comment made me LOL!! And you just became a thousand percent more interesting….
Lovely poem, glad I found you on here! Especially like the format of the poem. Greetings from Scotland
Thank you, Derek. I appreciate the kind words. Before 2020 came apart, I was due to be teaching in Scotland right now. I hear the heather is lovely this year.