Memories
By LUCY WATSON, aged 12 The old mare lets her head hang— Life departed from its once fine look Her coat is gaunt, staring with neglect, Bones rigid under rough, old skin. Her neck droops in a concave arc, Glory gone from a crest of long ago; Her thin, straggling mane hangs limply, Blinding sunken, staring eyes. Her eyes are dull, unseeing, Wildfire left once flashing, bold gaze; Her muzzle quivers in abject,
Misery: flecked with ugly warts. Her hooves resemble broken stones, Quicksilver flown from once dancing light; Her fetlocks dangle, pathetic, tom, Mudbespattered atop harsh bones. Freedom, glory, magnitude, Feeble memories of long, long ago; Her aged mind gropes, reaches out, Fumbles into a past of care.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19860708.2.99.6
Bibliographic details
Press, 8 July 1986, Page 18
Word Count
120Memories Press, 8 July 1986, Page 18
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Acknowledgements
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