Slow Pony Home

It’s the second September I have known you. Four years or so ago, I rode a pony, called him “truth.” We didn`t know the way so it took us till today to get here. And all that time, I felt just fine. I held so many people in my suitcase heart that I had to let the whole thing go. It was taken by the wind and snow, and I still didn’t know that I was waiting for a girl on a slow pony home. I can remember when I first saw you. You said in my photograph I looked more far away. I laughed and smiled and didn’t say “I am a bit afraid to be here.” Setting free the anchor and looking past the shore. It’s a sea of horses on ships with no sails, no motors, no oars. Now we’re cleaning the windows between us two. Funny, you do it once, and then again, and pretty soon the fingerprints and dust...but I’ve begun to trust the view here.