Game of Horses

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Photo by Iurii Laimin on Pexels.com

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Scent of eucalyptus

carries me into the woods

bordering my school

where my best friend, Lisa–

she of the straight blond bob

and breadloaf teeth—

gallops with me on paths

of fish-shaped leaves.

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We are the best of horses

I, Skyrocket, and she,

Bahira, the Arabian queen,

defend our forest,

escape from evil traders

We can never be bridled or tamed

No saddle will touch our backs.

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Magically, we are the riders,

two huntresses of Artemis,

armed with bows

we ride the bent-over tree

in a canopy of lemon-tart leaves

tracking the Cyclops

Lisa says the monster kills Skyrocket.

No, no!

Yes, it has to be Skyrocket.

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I chase her through the dusty woods

Nothing inside but rage

Lisa runs ahead laughing her fear

If I catch her—

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but I can’t.

She’s bigger, faster.

I collapse on crumpled leaves,

hot tears who wanted

to hurt my friend