*

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My birth certificate says:
She wished to be born a horse.
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My mother was afraid to let me ride.
My father told me horses were stupid animals.
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Outside Pickwick Stables where I wandered
the world thrilled to color TV
Rock and roll shook our hips
Elizabeth was crowned queen.
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What do you want for Christmas?
A horse.
I never got one.
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But today, while McConnell obstructs
While California smolders
While Haiti starves
I steal a quarter hour to wander Blue Chip Farm
where chestnut and chocolate standard-breds graze.
*
The yearlings feel frisky
They play chase across pastures green as Ireland
Tail flags flying
Running for the fun of it
*
They catch my breath
as does the jumper
whose muscled flanks propel him over the gate
“Put him to it again,” the trainer calls.
*
Before I return to vengeful Republicans
Anti-vaxers
Pregnant woman in Texas planning desperation
I will take this jewel of horse time
and thread it on my necklace
of precious days.