Hobbyhorse Cavalier

Seems every day bids we abandon dreams and face reality—but whose reality? (A Prosetry search - Image by Mariele Neudecker)

Hobbyhorse Cavalier
                     by Odin Roark

 

Rocking.

 

Just a few minutes more, I tell her
Almost there.

 

Remember our primitive forest,
Kitchen chairs,
Chrome legs,
Backs and seats of yellow and green tree tops,
Nesting places for the vultures,
Always present,
Always ready to prey.  Remember?

 

Rocking we did…

 

Kitchen cabinet canyons,
Scarred timber walls,
Smooth worn handles,
Magic openings,
Caves for hiding.

 

Here we go…

 

Passing through familiar terrain now,
Approaching tiered switchback,
The climb we've still trying to finish,
You and me, Shadow.
Rocking the air,
Taking in breath just for us.

 

Rocking tires me sometimes, though.

So much ground to cover.

 

Oh, blast it.  Enemy approaching.

Why does Nurse Vera
Always eye me, Shadow,
Touch my shoulder?

‘Cause she knows we're almost there?
Almost ready to dismount,
Give your weary legs some rest…
Once we've conquered the top.  Right?

 

But, not today.
Not enough time.
Group time.
Pill time.
Heal time.
That's what they call it, Shadow.
Healing time.

 

Why do they want to heal our journey?

You know, Shadow?

 

Reviews

[MomzillaNC]

I don't know if it was your intent, but this speaks to me of the struggle so many kids face these days. If they're the least bit rambunctious or distractible or too imaginative, our school systems want to drug them, to label them: ADHD… Autistic… Aspergers Syndrome… Because, heaven forfend, they should just be kids! The school system crams 30 kids in a room with one, underpaid, overworked, under appreciated, institutionally crippled teacher (meaning they can't discipline or counsel the kids in their classrooms), then faults the children and/or the parents because that poor lone soul is simply incapable of managing and teaching that many children; they need the kids to be little automatons. Any deviation from that text book perfect child (that simply does not exist) and the system wants to cram a load of mind altering chemicals down the kids throats at the time that their little minds and natural brains are developing.

Sorry about that little soap box rant… My son has ADHD and I've been dealing with the pressures for some time, made to feel as if I'm failing my child because I won't put him on meds. He takes music lessons and is in martial arts for ADHD therapy; but, I'm unwilling to put him on meds for being a boisterous, distractible, imaginative, 10-year old boy! Oops! There I go again. Phwh! Sorry!

Thank you for your poem.