The sun rise cast a shimmering crimson red, on my smiling horse.
He s
tands atop a hill in the pasture, in memory of our past.
I reflect back to the time when every day included a ride, in powerful stride.
In the drum like rhythm of hooves that carried me away, from the realities of human existence.
A time to dream, a time to think, a time to be with- out explanation.
No persecution of daily existence, no chatter of ego.
The camaraderie and passion shared without words. Secrets kept.
Honest action, reaction and communication just a simple hairy friend.
I swell in the stream of visual augmentation. 
I sculpt for days, hammering out thoughts, like a photographer of metal.
In steel I Immortalize the time to ride and the horses I called friends.
