AN
OLD HORSEWOMAN
Trudy Hatfield
When
I am an old horsewoman, I shall wear turquoise and diamonds and a straw hat that doesn't suit me. And I shall spend
my Social Security on sugar cubes and carrots, and sit in the alleyway of my barn and listen to my horses breathe.
I
will sneak out in the middle of a summer night and ride the old sorrel gelding across the moonstruck meadow if my old bones
will allow it.
And
when people come to call, I will smile and as I walk past the garden to the barn and show - instead of flowers growing - stalls
freshened with straw. I will shovel and sweat and wear hay in my hair as if it were jewels.
And
I will be an embarrassment to all who will not yet have found the peace in being free to have a horse (or pony) as a friend
... a friend who waits at the midnight hour with soft muzzle and a nicker and patient eyes for the kind of woman I will be
(when I am old)!
