ELEANOR JONES
Ride at Dawn
how can it be?
dawn pony ride through the sycamores
the wind tousles Cinnamon’s forelock,
whispers a sound almost like “Woodward walks.”
i halt, recalling
my frail half-blind half-toothless father
who never rode a horse;
but for pennies, Woodie hauled horse manure
from these Virginia farms.
what would he say to see me mounted?
high upon cascading hills, the world reflects.
like sycamore bark, time peels back
revealing tissue layers and
life discourse of strength and dreams.
Cinnamon paws eager to savor sunlight.
our ears with the wind, we trot ahead
carrying father’s voice.
Equestrian Eleanor Jones is a Maryland resident and public relations executive. As a new creative writer, her evocative poems and memoirs have been recognized internationally. Eleanor's nonfiction articles have appeared in the Afro-American, Essence, People and the Washington Post.