Category
2 - Poets Age 13 to 18
HONOURABLE
MENTION
April
By Schafawn Davis, of High Level, Alberta
As black as night.
You can’t see her when it is midnight.
But during the day in the soft white snow she stands out like a
miniature pony amongst thoroughbreds.
I love it when she runs through the snow,
at night she looks like a ghost.
When I ride her bare back I feel every movement that she does.
Every breath that she takes.
Every sound that she makes.
But when we run I feel like I’m flying and that I’m free.
But when she dies I will die in my heart
I will swear I will never ride again.
But deep down I know she will want me too,
so I will because she knows that riding is my life
and I shouldn’t give it up because my best friend died.
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