Friday, May 20, 2011

My Sister, the Wrangler

When my sister
was little,
all she
dreamed of
was horses.

I'd look out
the window
and see her
galloping around
and around the field,
long hair flying out behind.

In her mind,
she was

She grew up
to be
a banker,
and she does
that job well.

But, in her heart,
in the parallel reality
of her wildest dreams,
she is
a rancher's wife
in the Interior,
on a spread
with five hundred head,
rolling hills
and miles of fields
for all-day rides
and, after a flapjack breakfast,
she and her cowboy husband
the whole day long.

My sister
should have been
a Rodeo Queen.
She "robs the train"
on Saturdays
to thrill the tourists.

She spends Sundays
cattle sorting
and barrel racing.
On her face,
in her horse world,
she can't
stop grinning.

Our mom
always wanted
a photo
of her galloping,
her hair streaming
out behind.

I have that photo
in my mind,
that ten year old girl,
around and around
 the back meadow,
hair flying out behind,
a thousand dreams
and a reality
from her
perfect life.

1 comment:

  1. Sherry,
    This is so nicely written and I have got to know something about your sister too.
    Horses are such good and trusty companions.

    Hope all is good with you Sherry,
    Best wishes, Eileen


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