Lou J. Klaiber

PAINTED PONY

I never thought
of being tired
… or old.

I was riding
fast

into the wind
so long ago

when the ride was
a fast horse of life and death
that carried me into war
and home again.

I miss that ride.

The painted pony was life
… so fast

brave

carrying me far beyond myself.

Now
I sit in a chair
remembering

sleeping

the times that have fallen away.

It is a strange and silent journey
… going home.

I look for myself
in the mirror of age

gaunt
and silverhaired

dreaming…
…………dreaming.

… Only the eyes remain.

Author’s Note: For JL, EH and the 3rd Infantry Division