Somewhere She peels alfalfa flakes,
Breaks them to sweet feed; waiting
Molasses and oat flake flutter.
The water trough,
By tall, cool grasses,
Will forever quench Her thirst.

Outside my office door She lies,
A carcass and a rotting statue,
By roses and on canna lilies
Torn by Her last thrashing:
Her heart wrenched terror to prevail.

She stares in ground,
Now devastation;
Exhausted, beaten, but
No pain.
Flailing legs,
gone still and frozen:
euthenasia.
Her Somewhere from vet's 4-wheel gowns.

Her visage, not Her memory, under
A torn, blue tarp last used to cover
Winter's wood, left dead from great trees,
Like She who keeps our snow-hearts warm
Till Somewhere We will ride pain free.

To the Top | Memorials | HR Home Page