Riding Horses With Dad
I weave through the rocks of a rough winding trail
Up through the boulders and sage
Following a ridge to the top of the hill
I'm a young girl, who's coming of age
I am sitting astride a strawberry roan
My Dad rides ahead in the haze
Climbing the crest, they're sure-footed, and know
of a place to take rest, where the horses can graze
The clouds pass over, like ships setting sail
Casting shadows on the valleys below
The sky wears a palette of rose colored, pale
Our pace resumes, quiet and slow
Our voices are silent, all our words have been said
Just a whisper of bird wings, and a wisp of the chill
Our thoughts take our eyes, to a sun, scarlet red
Where it soon disappears, far over the hills
My Dad goes ahead, and has taken the lead
Lost in a mist, my eyes try to see
My mare tries to follow, and everything blurs
We continue our climb, to reach forest timber
Are those voices I hear, or just birds in the air?
Up he goes on the trail, on his faithful old steed, like a dream fading into the clouds..
He is smiling, my Dad,.. on his red sorrel mare,
.......while I stay behind to remember
_________________________________________________
6/19/2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
