Rocking horse on the loose
The weather has turned colder, and what used to be my hands are quickly morphing into blocks of ice. Needless to say, I was crabby when I stepped out the door, and in desperate need of a pick me up.
The offering across the street was beyond timely.
Has a horse defected from it’s stint at a grocery store, tired of having to rock tantrum throwing children for a quarter? Or is it an escapee from a carousel, resting until a deserving rider saddles up and gallops creakily away?
What a wonderful vision for this icy fingered crank to spot. I think I heard a very quiet neigh, and I’m sure I saw the horse wink at me, and my cold hands felt a tiny bit warmer.
