She boards the train for her daily pilgrimage from Cicero to Elmhurst.
Her pink topaz ring catches the unnatural fluorescent light.
It fits tight now on her chemical-burnt hands,
the sure mark of a maid, branded for life.
She closes her eyes, turns her back on the scenery from the window,
her own view of younger days and horses take stage. How she used to ride, legs wrapped ‘round a stallion, the air wild beneath her feet.
She dismounts the train.
The wind kicks up leaves like a hoof to dust.
This poem appears in my chapbook, THE SECRET OF IVORY VOWS, available through Lulu Press.
Fantastic short story! Imagery superb! Oh, how I love horses and anything to do with them... Now, train rides will equate to horse rides!!
Kathy, please read my short story "Meeting Wild Horses" for another imaginary ride! I'd be honoured!
Love of Horses Suzie :-D
(I had a horse when growing up called: "Alpine".)
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Peace,
Carolyn
Kathy, please read my short story "Meeting Wild Horses" for another imaginary ride! I'd be honoured!
Love of Horses Suzie :-D
(I had a horse when growing up called: "Alpine".)
I enjoyed the reading of "Pink Horses" for its imagery and contents.
May Mother-Poet keep Your synchronizing beauty.
Gratefully,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU