have a goat, his name is don.
doesn't mind if i get on
and ride like the wind.
he plays horse, of course.
and i'm cowboy.
jumping fences. in the wind.
jumping fences in the wind.
any old morning.
or middle of the night,
running full in starlight.
jumping fences in the wind,
jumping fences in the wind.
3 comments:
I enjoyed reading this poem, with its lovely dreamlike rhythm and quality... It made me think this could be a child's memory, or a child's dream, or an adult dreaming... It made me think of childhood, though I have no such memory... Beautiful!
Boy cowboy!happy for donny
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