a good horse has no color

I still dream of horses
after 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


Poetry by Åsa Andersson
Read 679 times
Written on 2014-08-21 at 12:50

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

Karl Johan Lindrup Olesen
Nice and funny little poem.

jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Horses have been a part of my life for, oh, forty some years, but it never occurred to me, until reading this, where the phrase "unbridled freedom" came from.

I have few romantic notions left after so much saddle time. That doesn't mean they don't have a piece of my heart. It's possible that I've spent more time on a horse, and talking to said horse (which is cheaper than paying a shrink), than I have talking to bipeds. I find horses wise, and under appreciated that way.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is very nice, Asa. It fluidly says all that needs to be said, nothing more.

As a horse lover and a horse owner for years, this picture is so vivid that I could smell that sweet scent of morning and riding a horse. It's the first freedom I ever felt in my life, and the feeling, and the scent linger. I love this!