Short Horseback Riding Poems

Let’s go horseback riding; it will be fun!
I say “I don’t want to.”
She keeps hounding me.
I say “Do you want me to lie?”
I finally lie.

Because I fell off a horse
When I was five
When I was eight
When I was thirteen.
None of these times was fun....

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The red earth trembles under the hooves of a few
Godless rebels, burning under the Nevada sun,
and you can see them at the border, beating
a wild fire into a smoking gun, and in the evening,
as the gunpowder ground stains black, shadows
on horseback riding through long dismantled towns,
stop, and smoke a cigarette (in lieu of Wovoka
death chant), to bring their bones to peace,
ashes to sand, dead memory to life,
and ride on again as ghosts....

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** This poem is in memory of Jesse Lewis. Jesse was a six-year old boy who died in the Sandy Hook Shooting. Jesse died while leading the other children to safety.







He rides to the place of glory.

 

He rides to the place of the Lord.



 

Jessie will sometimes act like the pint-sized Scrooge to make the angels and people laugh and smile.

 

He had a lot of courage and love inside of him.



 

Now he will go horseback riding.

 

Helping people ride into the gates of heaven....

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