Pasture Ponds

Take my hand and let me fly,
take my hand and let my soar,
take my hand and let my skate,
across the pasture pond.

Fairies and ballerinas twirl, jump, and skim
over the twinkling glass surface of the pond.

Taking my hand they twirl me,
and my manure caked muck boots transform
into shiny white figure skates.
As my dusty Carhartt overalls spin
into a silky, flowing figure skaters outfit.

My little golden retriever becomes
not a slipping and sliding puppy,
but my wonderfully coordinated
dance partner.

I sigh in content
and close my eyes

Zing, clatter, thump!

My skates clip together
and my eyes fly open,
just in time to see the trees disappear
to give way to the sky
as I fall flat on my back.

I lay gazing at the speckled nighttime galaxy,
that my beloved pond seems to be the exact center of.
Then pain sets up house in my rear
and I moan.

Rising, I see my formerly dignified partner
stumbling back to me as the puppy she once was,
the fairies and ballerinas have changed-
into curious horses standing at the pond’s edge.

One horse tests his courage as he steps on the ice.
Jumping to my feet, I frantically slide toward him,
to scare him off the ice that, for him, could result in death,
had he fallen through.

The magic is gone, as I walk off the pond.
Looking back only once, with my puppy at my side,
the ice winks back at me,
as if to say that it’ll welcome me once more,
ballerinas and all, another night,
When I’m ready to once again be in the middle of the speckled night sky,
On my pasture pond

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