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I will sneak out in the middle of a summer's night And ride the sorrel colt Across the moonstruck meadow. If my old bones will allow.
And when people come to call I will smile and nod. As I walk them past the gardens to the barn And show, instead, the beauty growing here In stalls fresh-lined with straw.
I will learn to shovel and sweat and wear hay in my hair as if it were a jewel. And I will be an embarrassment to all Who look down on me.
Who have not yet found the peace in being free to love a horse as a friend, A friend who waits at midnight hour With muzzle and nicker and patient eyes For the kind of woman I will be.... When I am Old.
(author unknown)
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