He rode into my childhood, I can’t recall when,
Sometime before seven, definitely not after ten.
He changed colors through the years, a painted horse for sure;
Still lingers in my memory, his legacy endures.
We would ride and ride forever, facing all our fears,
I don’t quite know for certain, there were probably some tears.
The wind at our backs, the sunshine on our face,
We’d ride and ride for hours, yet not go anyplace.
© 2017 G. David Steele, All Rights Reserved