Stick Horse

When he was home, he’d watch me play

But, I knew when he went away

He’d come home with a pocket of money

And we could write some check

He thought it funny when he’d call home

To hear the same request:

“Daddy, buy me a horse!”

A sight to see, my dad and me:

My cowboy boots and kerchief, too

His Khaki blue and steel-toed shoes

We’d go hand in hand

Then, I’d ride away on my pretend horse.

My pretend horse was a just stick;

I’d gallop along and shoot my guns

And Daddy would call to me

“Ride em Cowgirl!  Shoot em up!”

To this day, I can hear him say,

“Now, what would you do with a horse?”

“I’d ride and play, and I’d scare away

            the bad guys in this yard!”

He’d laugh at me, but it was plain to see

I wasn’t getting a horse.

In my dreams I’d stand real tall

            On my bareback horse!

He’d run so fast,

            No one could catch

            The leader of this gang!

And when I’d awake, I’d run to see

If Daddy got that horse for me!

Francene Hopkins

May 19, 1996 ©