When I think of riding, I
don’t think of how dry
the ground is, or how
wet the track-- I
don’t think of whether
I’ll be alone to enjoy
the wind and the sun and the
chill of winter--
I don’t worry about
how well I’ll ride,
or about my tack,
or about the God-given health
and the mood
of my mount-- I
think of her coat, her
living, breathing body,
the warmth of her
barrel, her muzzle,
and how we’ll be
together again.
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