Michael Zymon Z
To A Baby Horse Withdrawn
She was born of the new spring chill
Energized, new life tide;
My very dream personified.
I cried.
She nursed on wobbly legs,
And loved to play at mommy’s side,
And then, in pain, she died.
My dream personified, denied;
Her lost soul, most decried.
To purge my grief, and until red eyed,
I cried. I cried. I cried.
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