running through

grassy fields

to get to

a peeling barn

musty horse

is the air

as hay enters

my lungs

goats cry out

their hungry cries

as if they haven’t

been fed

while chickens cluck

yards and

yards

away

heavy saddles

line the

walls of the

best tack room

and horses

stand high

and mighty

in their own stalls

maybe i’ll

return one day

to see the big

beauties

but it’s likely that

my horses

are only

in memory