First Love

Images flash through my mind as I remember him standing there so tall and majestic.

His flaxen mane and tail blowing in the breeze.

It was love at first sight.

I wanted to ride him, but was told he wasn’t completely broken.

I wanted to be with him; to talk with him and stroke him because I was twelve and in love.

For the next week we were inseparable.

Him, saddled and tied at the hitching post.

Me, petting and talking with him.

Mom and Dad always knew where to find  me.

I was with Dave.

It broke my heart to leave him.

I cried as I climbed into the car to return home.

I even waved goodbye to Dave, which Dad said was silly.

I returned to him the next summer, but my majestic steed was gone.

He had been replaced by a worn down, sad eyed, old nag.

My beloved Dave was truly broken, and I was devastated.

About sandrabranum

I'm a philosopher, dreamer, poet, writer -- not necessarily in that order -- and I get to write it all down and share it with the world thanks to the Wonderful World Wide Web!
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