 My horse paws the stable floor, each strike of his impatient hoof rings steel and thunder through the barn. His leg is a piston of an engine with truthful eyes. A horse cannot lie, unlike the complicated prayers I prayed to not want what I wanted, not be what I was- A nine-year-old in her backyard galloping on an invisible horse, She held the reins, hollered and whooped pigtail and mane soared over an imaginary jump. What took me so long to heed the answer to my heart’s honest wish?  © 2023 Kristen Skedgell. All rights reserved.
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