Old Horse

The horse was put to pasture while I was gone
And though he looks strong way out on the hillside
Upon closer examination I see
That his legs could not hold my weight anymore
He recognizes me as I scratch his nose
The child who rode his back while my father
Carefully guided us around our backyard
And watched as my mother gently brushed him down

His stall in the barn is stocked with hay and oats
And the pasture is secure and as perfect
As a childhood relic that is put away
And then found in a box underneath the bed
He serves no purpose for me now, save a fond
Memory for me to watch from a distance
But when I drive back to my house tonight, I'll
Add another length of fence to my pasture

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