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Rated: E · Poetry · Animal · #1253403
Time passes our batons to those who come behind whether we like it or not
DUSTY DREAMS
April 20, 2007

I envied them as I
left them behind
standing in their
dusty boots with
their ponies; the
water trough, and
ladigo reins and
rides down trail.
They were me,
once.

I trusted them to
keep my dream going.
To hold onto those
ladigo reins for me
with the taste of trail
dust on their lips
and the sound of the
saddle in their
groins.

But, now, in their
mere teens, these girls
gave up this life. They
turned their backs
on their ponies and
life in the saddle
and all those trail
rides!

They've cleaned their
boots and left
those troughs with
autumn coming
and summer still
tugging at the
reins.

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