hazel

Long Twenty four years of pony club

from age to age is passed

gymkhana and a gentle hack

new owners never last



now she stands too painful to move

wet breath rasping and thin

her eyes once bright are slightly dim

skeleton shows through skin




so many summers on the moor

Winters under a rug

winter is all that lies ahead

there is no summer drug




course rough hands with heart that is warm

head collar he removes

gone are the days when head would toss

with skipping dancing hooves




Behind the wall the children stand

clenched fists and nibbling thumb

they're dreading what will happen next

so still silent and numb




the vet looks but he does not touch

the hoof or hollow chest

no need to get a stethoscope

or to do some blood test




there is no cure in his drugs case

to make it walk or trot

from the old wooden box he draws

a gun with single shot




placing upon the ragged blaze

gun cocked for last goodbye

a shot rings out, and dead meat drops

then topples to one side




legs gallop the final furlong

with trembling jerking stride

the tongue falls out with bloody breath

muscle relaxed inside




trembling to the eternal still

eyes dry to final stare

loud sobbing starts behind the wall

young riders in despair