Equine Knocks

Oak leather and loose latigo Wash wind as saddles sing— Splashing cool creeks the horses know— Humming hoofs summers bring. Sun sparkles dappled trees ahead As we now gallop on— Our eyes are clear and faces red As we race to the pond. We’re twelve years old and full of ***** As my horse rears to buck— Then I fall hard and go kerplunk And run clear out of luck! Just as I hit upon my bun, I think that I have died— But then I see my luck’s not done— That cow pie is all dried! Oak leather and loose latigo Takes us on that short ride— With nothing broke or left aglow Except my own dern pride!