Lexington, KY
Hi there, working on this nostalgic piece. Really like how it turned out. :) Love, C.A.
Back to the Barn
There was a time when life was all about horseshoes
and weather. When we walked the barn aisles, spurs
began clicking. Shelby was tallest. Sometimes dirt
seeped through the boot cracks. With tough, small
hands, we checked our stirrups, the girth, our bridles --
throat latch, nose band, reins -- making sure the bit
made three wrinkles in the corners of the horse's lips.
Micki and Michelle wore makeup. Rough kid winters,
toes stung while we pulled off the tack, jerking lead ropes
from the numbered rack. We day-lived in the barn lounge,
resting on dog-chewed, orange, vinyl chairs, dealing cards,
playing the game of Speed, and one brother always won.
Our stained Lands End jackets -- how they held the dust
close; we wore them with the collars turned up, fighting
frostbite. Once, I took the wrong one home. Halfway
back from the horse show, I dug my hands deep inside
the pockets, pulling out too-large, crochet-back gloves,
a horse show list, and Christopher's snakeskin watch.
For a day, I wore it. How I wanted to ride like Chris.
Born with the seat and eye, no one could touch him.
We rode through spooky storms and August steam.
How I gripped sweaty reins. Muddy days, Mel and I
were forever checking the fields for lost shoes. One
lesson in the front ring, the toe of Matt's boot touched
mine. No accident, but that was all, ever. Blistery
summers, the testy hose. Cooling out, everyone but Amy
drank the well water. Like seals in the sun, at the picnic
table, we stretched our bodies to dry, then walked down
to the K&M Store, where the sandwich meat was always
too thick. Lee liked the Moon Pies. I think P.J. liked pickles.
C.A. MacConnell
