Stopped to tighten cinch, this one seems to always distend, guess it is his way of having a say.
Thinking of trails we’ve shared, now moving smoothly, understanding each other as only respect can bring.
Knot head, spirited, been some trouble, doesn’t matter. Today, this one is right.
Leathery hands clasp the horn as stirrups swallow boots.
Deep in the saddle, ready for the trail
Haven’t ridden this trail before, but know this one is right.
Cool February morning, light peaking over the mountain
Puffing steam as he worked the trail
Morning seemed perfect, trail length unknown, but know this one is right
Trail moves forward as side brush run up the hill
Good trail, over the years been many trails
Some rough, some easy, certainly grateful for each
Sharing trails with a loving companion, a blessing
Trails brought wonderful children, beautiful grandchildren
Spiritually she rides with me today, but this one trail, is mine alone
Brooklet rambles subsequently beside the trail
Water rolls over hidden rock and then smoothes at crossing
A small step really, nothing difficult in reaching the other side
He’s waiting, waiting for our interview
Such peace, such beauty, hands pierced, loving sacrifice for me
Embrace, tears, joy, eternally home, this one is right.
Perfect trail, this trail, last trail, right trail
Beautiful. Thanks.
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