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The
White Horse
by Kelsey Johnson
who always wanted to be brown stares off, unblinking, into the pastures, the grass green, the trees full, but the ground is still hard from Winter’s last attempts to keep us from Spring, but he is held back, Confined. A choked sob comes from my lips, but it is not my own. He turns and looks at Me. His deep brown eyes show a Feeling I cannot define. Is it Love? Is it loathing? Is it Longing? Is it pity? I hold out my hand, but my feet are frozen to the earth, a layer of ice covers us, still breathing, but my beating heart is Still. Unable to move closer, nor farther. He Pauses, then stretches his neck forward, his nostrils searching. Is he only looking for a sweet treat? Or does he truly Care for me? As far as we both stretch, we cannot reach, yet only seeming to be a few feet apart. I again start drifting Away, pulled by some invisible force, yet still unmoving. They, with Their motto of “Creativity, Leadership, Globalization and Sustainability,” call me to Them. I go willingly, but Reluctant. And the white horse who always wants to be brown watches me go as he fades away.
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