a poem a day for a year #213

by Amy Turn Sharp


There is a man who lives at the bottom of the world and for a kiss he will take you on a trail ride. You can climb on a beast and he will show you how life used to be. As you gallop through a forest you see images reflect off mountains. The color of your bedroom as a child, your mother laughing, the way you used to skip, Ferris wheels, bikes with baskets, skinned knees, roller skates. He only gives you a few minutes before he throws you to the ground. He calls you names and laughs at your face that instantly changes from child to adult. You close your eyes tight like rubber bands. You remember nothing.