A Toast To
Horseshit
by Tricia Sutton
the smell
of pure love
of a mystical place
home, to Ojai, where I was born to live
To the enchanting mountain views
to the intoxicating scent of orange
blossoms
shady bike trails
and Celtic folk concerts in the park
To never a cold day
to stables
to friends with money
Oh, what I had and what I lost
Those were the best of my days
in spite of a few
No shadows preside o'er the magical place
in a magical time
before the progressively merciless world
had yet to proclaim me
Like an old song
like a photograph of your dog, Sue
nothing says "ahh memories"
more than that familiar smell of horsey
doo.
The odor of pure bliss, that's what
Horseshit does to me. |
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Tricia Sutton has many
talents, none of which is writing poetry. She has
actually led herself to believe that a character
from her newly completed novel wrote this piece.
She blames many things on her fictional
characters. For a complete list of the brave
magazines that published her stories, please
visit her blog at http://dfmil09.wordpress.com/publications/.
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