Her name was Jasmine
but her mouth
was hard as granite.

She grabbed the bit
and ran like demons
were on her tail.

Her domain was the racetrack
until she was tossed aside,
a flawed, unwanted scrap of horse.

I taught her to waltz
to a music montage;
to swing with Shubert and Chopin.

She hated feeling trapped
so I left a window open
in the release of the reins.

When I whistle across glowing grass
and clover, she gallops to me;
the sunset shining in her mane.

Sunday Wordle prompt!  (written for all my friends who have rescued horses from the track and trained them in dressage)


White Water

Rocks litter the river; shore stones
wine skinned and whiskey smooth were once
deep water drunk, jagged and sharp.

The river rapids rush with abundance;
wild spray and splash
until they empty into summer’s sun-bleached lack.

I tumbled through the torrent;
snagging on saw-edged heartbreak,
before resting in the sand – battle weary, bruised and bent.

Prompts:  Poets United Vice Versa prompt and dVerse  for the Triversen form.