(Poem 108 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

This looks like a great painting to ride into on a gentle appaloosa.
She and I will trot along at a leisurely pace, past the old shack
and on down to the creek behind that far off stand of trees.
Occasional clouds of red clay dust might kick up behind us if we
decide to pick up our speed, so we keep it nice and easy instead.
The clouds gathering on the horizon threaten rain, but we welcome
the cover cooling the afternoon with a comfortable spring breeze.
The only sounds the sporadic scolding of birds when we ride too
close to their nests, and the creak of our saddle with each step.
We’ll turn around and head home when we reach the field of
wildflowers just out of sight around that far bend out yonder.

@Home Studio – 108^th poem of the year