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A child, a pony, and a handful of grass . . . |
| FEEDING PONIES August 7, 2008 Fingers hooked in metal fencing woven in diamonds. Eyes pressed against pony hides ruffled by autumn winds. Unhooked fingers twitching through the fence to feel the wiry soft mane, the charbroiled coat of the stocky Shetlands. The love of horses never to admit defeat, wins over the greed of the ponies hungering with love for the grass-bearing children. |