Patterns

Rocking Horse

Leather, cool and cracked.

It is not the first, but the last;

Time has escaped us once again.

Saddle resting upon her back,

44 inches of courage that I lack.

Fasten, tighten, pull.

Frosted plastic in my hand;

Her mouth – wrinkles like valleys span,

Crafted to a face, shaped around an eye.

Dust escapes before boots and hooves,

Foot in stirrup, in walk, in trot she moves -

One, two, one two, one two

In placid eyes tears roll back and forth

On my flawless rocking horse;

Canter – one two three one two three

To dismount is to give up, to fail;

Instead sweet sweat and dust with each inhale.

But we cannot be one forever

One two three four one two three four,

I dream of her steps six years before.

But now she moves away, not towards.

I have grown too big to even try

To mount once more to say goodbye

Silly that over this plastic that I cry?