Every day, a photograph, a poem. Moved from place to place now, this old toy horse rests in its pasture, kept for its memories of days gone by and also days ahead, with it’s former riders now becoming parents themselves, great-grandchildren– a continuum of smiles in its worn face. And so, a poem:
Even old toy horsesSheri Edwards
roam out to pastures
as seasons pass them by
with new smiles
their worn faces still imply.