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Sunday, March 24, 2013

Because horse people are sentimental


 
 
A snowfall of blossoms sifts to earth,
Light as down on unmarked graves.
Eyes closed, there are new-penny coats;
Ears pricked, there are hoofbeats.
Gone but not forgotten;
Sleeping beneath a snow of pear petals,
Waiting to carry us home.
 
 

2 comments:

  1. Your poetry is very good!!! These pictures are absolutely beautiful!!!!

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