Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Bears in Heckscher Park



Spring Horse

by Ruth Hill
 

 Ruth was raised in upstate New York. She sailed BC for five years, then settled in northern BC. Her writings were selected by The Litchfield Review, Level 4 Press, Ocean Magazine, Hastings International Poetry, Utmost Christian Writers, Lucidity, Georgia Poetry Society's Langston Hughes Award, Tom Howard Poetry, Word Catalyst, MODOC Forum, Senior Poets Laureate, Peace River Anthology, Dancing Poetry, and Arc Poetry. Ruth enjoys email from other writers.

 

I once found a spring,
which I saved, in case
I ever saw a crippled spring horse.

 
I did find a three-legged spring horse,
which I trailered home to fix.

 
I saved a thrown-away mop,
and shaped a new mane and flying tail.

 
I painted its saddle red.

 
Some movers threw it down,
and broke its little plastic leg.

 
On a woodsy walk I found a stump,
and carved it to fit inside the leg.

 
I took the horse off its stand to glue,
and left it outside to dry.

 
Someone saw a horse without a stand,
and threw the horse away.

 
Eventually I gave up finding
a replacement horse.

 
Upon moving to the nursing home,
I found again that little lonely spring.

 
This time its hopefulness eluded me.