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White Horses

posted 9/14/2008 10:45:05 PM |
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White Horses

My dreams returned to white horses last night,
or they returned to me.
Dreams are never clear or they would not be dreams.
The air was thin; the scent of you was not present.
It is the first time the horses have come
without a trace of you.
I have always thought they were the wild part of you
returning to refresh me.
But they have come back empty,
a bit lost, looking for direction.
Most things have a season;
these horses will go on for years.
They need not carry back anything.
Even empty, they are a reminder.

Words by: William
Comments: {email address removed}

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White Horses