His horseshoe on the tree near
had slipped a nail again
Turning upside down
Spilling the little luck within
He thought about fixing it
But didn't want to rise in might
To get the ladder and hammer
And nail, to set things right
He had quit riding, late last year
Although he could, he had been
Stepped on across the back,
Hurt a little, and didn't want it again
Now, he would sit and rest
Wait patient, for the days to fade
Loving the moment of thought
Resting on the bench, in shade
© 2017 Jim Davis
I knew a neurosurgeon who rode bulls in college. Talk about juxtaposition! In my opinion, anyone riding bulls may need brain surgery!