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The sky is a lesser blue now, but the same winter-knifing wind I remember off the ridges, across alfalfa fields…. Just condos now, impervious to weather. Cantering bareback on Molly – saddle on its sawhorse back in the barn – I was Lone Ranger, last of my breed. A flake of hay for Molly, years gone by….

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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