Inner Renovations Project, Poetry & Musings

dismount.

the saddle became uncomfortable.

ride was long, not to mention lonely.

and the beast itself constantly needed to be fed.

I never arrived where I was going

and it was hard to smell the flowers with my nose up in the air.

so I swung my leg over and prepared for the mile long dismount.

back to earth, touching down.

and bid goodbye to my high horse.

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