I had gone to Sandbridge early one day when the wind began whipping up. I decided to leave and did not have to be anywhere for several hours, so I drove down a few back roads in the country. I went down a back road that curved around beside a small ravine that probably led to Back Bay. There in a small shed was an old horse. He was incredible, along with everything else I saw that day.
Sparkling sun and running clouds.
Corn fields shuffling in the wind.
Sprawling, open land for miles.
Flowers bend, then stand again.
A pasture with a lonely tree
That’s flourished for so many years,
Brings shelter to a flock of wrens,
That soar, and then they reappear.
Photo by Debbie Collett.
An old horse in a metal shed
Looks out over some brush and limbs;
And nods his still majestic head,
As though he is a long lost friend.
Above the whistling, changing breeze,
A bobwhite calls for all to hear.
And through the backdrop of the trees,
The shadow of a walking deer.
No matter where you’re going to,
There’s peace within a country view.
The silent song that’s running through
The trees, the land, comes into you.
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