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So, what happened...
There was a boy whose face lit up every time he saw the sun shoot colors across a waning night sky. He would sit for hours, minus those he spent waking up much too early, breathless, his horse nuzzling his shoulder understandingly, both their breaths frosting the black.
He loved that horse. Cream and rust-brown, and the heart that beat in him so fiercly and gently.
True companionship was written in these, and the boy and horse both knew it.
One day, when that same sun was high above, there came a gypsy band. A rogue rider led the small pack, his beard a wild black, his bright and roughly sewn cloak whipping in the autumn wind. A haggard woman followed on her own rude animal, her eyes guarded and dim, her face wearing all the years she had taken. The motley group could be heard as a brusque whisper among the woods they rode through- only one care, not too loud.
For as they lived they stole, all the important things they dragged along behind them, behind their sad children, behind their sad animals, had once been prized and cared for by another. This was their way.
And so they came upon the boy's home, when neither boy nor father nor mother were there. And they saw the horse, all cream and rust-brown, and they took him, and his heart beat fierce, though they did not hear it.
When the boy returned, he knew.
He couldn't see the eyes that told his presence. He couldn't find his horse, his horse. Where had he gone? He would never leave!
The boy couldn't say... and his heart broke for all the thought of it.
He had been taken, the boy decided, angrily pushing back the tears with his arm.
And in his rakish, determined young soul, he vowed he would find his horse again.
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"...daddy's ghost behind you
sleeping dog beside you
you're a poem of mystery
you're the prayer inside me
spoken words like moonlight
you're the voice that i like
needlework & seedlings
in the way you're walking
to me from the timbers
faded from the winter..."
-i.&w.
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| | Posted 3/25/2008 1:03 AM - 27 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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