When I am an Old Horsewoman
When I am an old horsewoman
I shall wear turquoise and diamonds,
And a straw hat that doesn’t suit me
And I shall spend my social security on
white wine and carrots,
And sit in my alleyway of my barn
And listen to my horses breathe.
I will sneak out in the middle of a summer night and ride the old bay gelding,
Across the moonstruck meadow
If my old bones will allow
And when people come to call, I will smile and nod
As I walk past the gardens to the barn
and show instead the flowers growing
inside stalls fresh-lined with straw.
I will shovel and sweat and wear hay in my hair
as if it were a jewel
And I will be an embarrassment to all
Who will not yet have found the peace in being free
to have a horse as a best friend
A friend who waits at midnight hour
With muzzle and nicker and patient eyes
For the kind of woman I will be
When I am old
I lost a horse last Friday to an unexplained high fever so it seemed appropriate to repost this old poem from a long time ago. He was 20, but was in great shape and should have lived another 6 or 8 years. He was the father of the little guy pictured in the photo above. I first saw this poem when I was a young horsewoman (see below). Now that I am an old horsewoman, it means so much more. I’m afraid I’m nearing the end of my career in horses, they are a lot of work for an old woman, but I have great memories and I still hear a whinny or two when I go to the barn. I left the comments up from the last time I posted it, because they are so beautiful! A testament to what our animals can be to us, if we let them.
He was loved, he will be missed.
Rocky Mountain Woman
This post is in honor of the letter “I’ and part of Jenny Matlock’s Alphabet Friday. For more interesting “I” posts, please click here Jenny Matlock.