a sonnet

A sonnet I sat on a stone fence, in flat agricultural landscape, trees been planted around farms to protect from the North Westerly wind I had collected shiny pebbles in the stream only to find when the stones dried they were not shiny anymore, but dull like pebbles are A man and horse came walking up the track shoulder to shoulder, like two old friends. Can the horse run fast? I innocently asked No, he is very old now, like me, he smiled can I pet him? The man lifted me up so I could pet, the horse looked at me with eyes of slaves, who no longer dream of freedom What's left, the love of a kindhearted man