My Daydream Mare Poem by suxanne popp

I've had the mare since she was foaled.
Now she is old.
She was born on the 29th of October
My son's birthday.
In the hay of an Indian summer day.

April's Daydream is her name.
Her mother whickered in joy when she came.
Floating black mane
Free flowing tail,
I didn't ask for such beauty in my field.

Daydream walked with grace all her days.
Traffic slowed to see her graze.
She ruled the fields in fall and spring
Surrounded by grassy terrain and evergreens.

Now, she balances tentatively on legs
She can no longer command.
Three white geese are all the herd
That she can summon and demand.

Gracious still, she tosses them her surplus oats
And watches over them
While red tailed hawks and eagles circle
Her life is pulling inward and downward.

When do I let go, and let her pass?
She still whinnies at the pleasure of apples and grass.
Her coat is shining, her dapples glow.
Still, winter is coming, and with it, the cold.

She cannot manage a stall or a hill.
She lives in a paddock, alone and still.
Flanked by her embden geese and one chinese peasant.
But her eyes tell me life is still pleasant.

Others who have lost a beloved pet
Tell me I will know when it's time to say goodbye.
They say the horse will tell me she wants to leave
And then I will have no regret at putting her down.

So is this how I will depart?
No longer able to move with dignity
Flanked by a gaggle of nurses in white?
Hurrying to my feedings, afraid of the night?

Daydream, I am looking to you for answers.
You are as close as I ever got to heaven.
Give me a signal there is something more than my grief
That passing over is a time of freedom and relief.