Apricot Moons

I listen to my pony’s breathing
Feel her hooves against the cold river rocks
Her muscles working
As we cross the shallow stream.

Blowing steam from her nostrils
It rises and dissipates
In the chill autumn air.

I mindlessly slide a hand
Along her silky mane
Telling her she’s a good mount
Assuring her we both will find rest soon.

I’ve a little jerky in my pouch
A little coffee
And far too many thoughts
Regrets
Too much to dwell upon
Along the banks
Of so placid a water as this.

In a few minutes
I will picket my pony
In the tall grass along the bank.

I will tuck into a likely place
My back against a big rock
Brew my coffee
Chew some jerky
Heat some beans
And watch the evening stars play.

A man alone is a dangerous thing.

It’s a dodgy matter
Being alone with memories
That challenge even the most sturdy soul.

She is somewhere behind me.
Somewhere beyond my left shoulder
Just under that rising apricot moon.

I still hear her breathing, too.
Feel her muscles working
My hands in her long hair
As I tell her all will be well soon
Tell her she is a good woman
That all I need do is cross
One more river
And very soon we can rest
And settle into a new life
In the tall grass
In the rich prairie
Along a slow river.

But that was a long time ago
And many miles distant.

Damn these thoughts
Damn this jerky
And damn those distant stars.

Sometimes
A man ought not stop
Ought not think.
Sometimes
A man is better moving
Until he cease looking over his shoulder
At apricot moons.