Keeping Up the Fight

We spoke of trips we’d take,

And horseback rides in the rain.

We talked of parties, pretty dresses and dancing,

But resigned ourselves, at least for now,

To an endless array of game shows, news, soaps and movies,

Things that didn’t matter so much at all.

What mattered truly; what made her keep up the fight,

Was the desire to dance and to laugh and have fun,

To dress up and make up, to be the belle of the ball.

To look ahead and see her life,

Lived with joy and new-made memories.

And then in the wee hours of a moon-lit night,

The months of waiting were over,

A new memory in the making,

That which she worked for and so much that she loved,

Was now coming full circle to fruition.

So thin and weak but with the skill she had mastered,

And the essence of this camaraderie between equine and she,

Donning gloves and mask to keep germs away,

She knelt in the warmth of the soft golden straw,

To receive the gift of this foal.