AN OLD HORSEWOMAN​​
Trudy Hatfield​​
When I am an old horsewoman, I shall wear turquoise and diamonds and a straw hat that doesn't suit me.  And I shall spend my Social Security on sugar cubes and carrots, and sit in the alleyway of my barn and listen to my horses breathe.​​
I will sneak out in the middle of a summer night and ride the old sorrel gelding across the moonstruck meadow if my old bones will allow it.​​
And when people come to call, I will smile and as I walk past the garden to the barn and show - instead of flowers growing - stalls freshened with straw.  I will shovel and sweat and wear hay in my hair as if it were jewels.​​
And I will be an embarrassment to all who will not yet have found the peace in being free to have a horse (or pony) as a friend ... a friend who waits at the midnight hour with soft muzzle and a nicker and patient eyes for the kind of woman I will be (when I am old)!



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