The Palouse (Appaloosa Horse)
Bred by Nez Perce tribes along
the Palouse River, your ancestors
gave you those pleasing traits
you spotted horse, with the distinct
sclera; not two of you look quite
alike in markings of the skin
Once, some lover of another breed
scoffed at the sight of you:
“This Indian horse is the only breed
the lamest warrior could catch with ease”
He looked at you, and you gazed
at him, and I saw mischief flicking
in your eye—one that is so human-like
And while we talked some more
about the price of good horseflesh,
he praised the Quarter Horse—
that’s when you raised one light-dark
striped hoof, as though by chance,
and stepped on his booted foot
I laughed, “My friend, now go an’ try
to catch a slow Palouse”
But you grew old, and when
your time came, no killers took
your dappled coat or rendered
flesh and bones
You rest beneath a desert
pasture’s scanty grass, far away
from the Palouse River Valley
and I remember you as a horse
quite worthy of the beaded trapping
you wore at your last parade.
Hi Jerry,
This is so touching and beautifully written,
nice ending, too. Wow, made me sort of sad...
thanks for this one.
K
Hi there, Karen;
thank you for reading and commenting. I'm truly glad you did. Good to see you; thanks and take care. Jerry
This is such a touching poem, Jerry - I am very moved by it. Very well written too. Thank you for sharing this.
Snow
Thank you, Snow.
You are quite welcome, and I thank you for the nice comment.
Jerry
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