An Intrepid Friend
Nancy S. King
Golden rays of sunset
highlights the rim of several hoofprints.
Footprints are mixed in, dust adding its soft visual effect.
The call of a night bird splits the silence,
Drowning out the melancholy music of the radio in the barn.
Each horse is gazing, looking at the house, at the sky.
Dark pools of what might be tears gather in the corner of those
Large, warm, brown and black eyes, those windows of the secret world
Of horses, eagles and friends.
The messenger has come
and gone; the news lingers.
Memories flood my mind, crowding my moments of now.
This dwelling, this place, it has his essence, his aura,
I can smell him on the soft breeze, and sense his presence.
The horses nicker for
their friend, they call a long and sad,
"Where are you?" "Where have you gone?"
I am in disbelief that life could be so short, over
So very fast for one who made such a great contribution.
Will the cold winds of
winter soon blow across the pasture,
Taking the dust and the memories into the great beyond?
Will those footprints and hoofprints fade into the sunset of all of my
No! For you see, those prints are also embedded across my heart.