Watching her
Handling pony hers
Was a revelation...
Seeing her with the pony on motion
Was like having a dream...
Wild west kind...
Reminding me
A writeup mine...
'When a cowgirl met a poet...'
Wrote i
Without having eyes...
Mortal...
Only occhio della mente...
That too
Some ten decades back!
But then finding her
White gold charred...
As if the light caused her
Burns...
Was it not a divine intervention?
She...
A pony rider...
And her face,
Covered half by a silvery veil
Had the smile...
Was that not
A gape kind?
By coincidence brought?
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