Since The Morning LightShe stands out in the corral, her pretty face silhouetted against the rising sun, hanging her head over the gate as if she's watching over me.
A little girl with bouncing curls once dangled and hung from the mare's long and tangled mane.
She nickers me 'good morning'.
Her soft, dark eyes watch and see and take notice to everything and her pent up wisdom of cattle is lingering just behind them.
She packs a silver moon bit and the little girl assumes she hung it and the stars.
When branding season rolled around, she drug the soggy calves with ease and stood off in the corner peacefully.
Upon her back, Ol' Glory whipped and flew and she sent chills sneaking down your spine.
She nickers a sweet 'good night'... and I thank God all horses go to heaven, cause she's been buckin and runnin like a colt again, since the morning light.
For anyone who has ever lost a good ol' horse and everyone who will.
In honor of a great friend, a good horse and a sweet little girl.