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!
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