27 September 2010

War Story

I took my seat high in the grandstand.
Below me the crowd
And the horses.

I sat by an old guy,
An old guy older than me.
I asked him who he liked in the Derby.

He liked the eleven.
Eleven was his lucky number.
We talked about horses in general.

"During the war our milk was delivered
By horse and wagon.
Two horses.

One day, I guess I was about ten,
I spooked the milkman's horses
As he was returning from someone's porch.

Horses ran over him.
Broke both his legs."
He chuckled.

No comments: