a good horse has no color
I still dream of horsesafter all these years
in no-horse land
at night they come
streaming down the hill
in unbridled freedom
when I wake up their
strong sweet scent
still linger in my nostrils
and the familiar
phantom pain
of no-horse land
begins.
Poetry by Åsa Andersson
Read 902 times
Written on 2014-08-21 at 12:50
|
Karl Johan Lindrup Olesen |
|
jim |
|
Lawrence Beck |
| Texts |
![]() by Åsa Andersson Latest textsReapingplanning the jailbreak Out of the box Happy happy The Zorro circle |
