Ain't What He Used To Be

The old gray, he ain’t what he used to be.
Was a time he was the fastest
Horse around.
He could hold his own in any herd.
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And he had been with many a herd,
Bought and sold many times.
Gilded as a colt on a Tennessee farm
He never became alpha.
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But he ran high in the ranking,
Fighting for his right to eat
Where he wished,
Except for the boss mare they left the gray along.
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He did his stitch as a rental trail horse,
For years he carried riders,
Knowledgeably and not,
Eight hours a day, seven days a week.
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He had his pards
And he made his enemies.
Mostly life was good
Clean water and good pasture.
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All his life as he moved from herd to herd
From pasture to pasture,
He had traveled in a stock trailer
With ten or more horses.
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He noticed that for a time
He carried only one rider,
None other straddled his back,
Or put tack upon him.
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This rider fit him well
Together they rode the trail
Up and down the renters
Along side the path.
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Keeping them in line,
Setting the pace
All day long,
Ride after ride.
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In the Morning he recognizes his rider,
And with a nicker
He walked up and put
His head down to be bridled.
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Days became years
Riding through the hills
No better way to spend a life,
Man and horse together.
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But things change
And they did again.
A two horse trailer skerred
The kajeebeas out of him.
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No way, no how
Was he going in that thing!
No room to move.
Too dark to see.
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No thank you please,
I’ll just stay where I am,
But the rider would have his way
By the end of the day.
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He spun around
So he could see where he has been.
Amazon sight to see
A horse turning in such a small space.
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They traveled for hours and hours,
His whole world became
The shifting, shaking, bumping
Of the trailer.
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He swore if he ever got out
He would never get back in.
At last the trailer stood still

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©

Rexx