Can’t Shoo It Away

More and more I slip
down to the white horse in the pasture.
It breathes a hush of apple expectations.
And delivery.

No one I know has died.
I just feel that way.
If I loved more people,
the loss of one would not hurt so much.
But no one’s died.

The airport’s one plane
passes overhead, lands, arrives,
delivers passengers
to old friends
who waited for a flat tire
to be fixed
in Albuquerque.

I sit on the rail fence,
talk to the white horse
of loves lost, of moments
that ignore timelines
and their place in history.


copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

POSTSCRIPT

I channeled my life in Taos, NM to write this piece. It does have a small airport that has a commuter route to Albuquerque’s Sunport (airport) that runs a couple times per day. From my house on the above the pasture with the white horse, I could see the planes approach the airport. Once down by the pasture, the airport disappeared from view. So I fudged from reality with artistic license.

I have many moments that do not stay in their place on my timeline, thus are not fully history. Those moments are mostly traumatic, but there are good moments as well. One of the good ones that surfaces from time to time was being 10 years old and making a game saving catch after a long run in center field for my little league team and how the team gathered round me and cheered, while slapping me on the back.

Love & Light

Kenneth

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