Dear Windjammer, I am sorry.
In retrospect, I believe I used you
to boost my stature and height,
a frightening sight during the
fury of adolescence,
I stood no higher than the second rail.
Petite anticipation under the border of our corral.
The first time I saw you
so humble, so majestic in size.
Coat so sleek and luminous
in the summer sunshine.
Windjammer, my steed.
We had some good times. You must know.
Unbridled rides through open fields,
masters of the wind, gallops
across the afternoon.
And others, I know, where I sat too proud,
arrogant above inherited height,
grasping whip and reins
for glory, forgetful of you
under me, riding myself
into false identity.
I want to thank you, Windjammer
for some of my life’s high jumps.
And, I want to thank my lofty husband,
for always reaching the top shelf for me
with a smile.