Fate Waits

     Sitting back, his left leg crooked around the horn of his saddle, the old cowboy was lost in daydreams. The roan mare picked her delicate path down the side of the canyon, used to the weight of the cowboy and to his meandering ways. On this late fall day they seemed the perfectly matched pair, mountain bred horse and time worn cowboy…

      Without rhyme or reason, they had roamed these last few years. It was as if they were simply cut off in time, each more comfortable with the other than either were comfortable in the world outside this wild range. Each was lost in private thoughts, the mare remembering back to the wild free days running with the mob; the old cowboy on the lost love in his life…

      Cowboy’s thoughts were back on the old swimming hole, the hot lazy days of summer, and the laughs only his special love could bring. From time to time the mare’s mind would flash an image of that glossy black stallion, the joys of running in wild abandon with the thunder of hundreds of flashing hooves.

Time, memory, mountains…….. Blended together, woven in the endless pattern as only fate waits…

~ © 2003 David L Griffith ~

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