Boomer

“Boomer”
Clip, clop, clip, clop
The soft breeze blows through my hair,
His mane
His ears are pinned, so I pat
His shoulder
They go up again
I nudge his side with my leg
He turns onto the sandy path
So as not to hurt his feet

We move through the doorway,
Him walking,
Me riding
Click click
Click cough
He heaves, I fall forwards
Almost sliding off the saddle,
But I don’t
Let the reigns out
Lisa says
I do
He heaves again
I stay up
I pat his shoulder
And his ears unpin