Literature
Centaur on a Hill
I pause, at sunset, on a hill,
And watch the sky turn dark, and still,
I swish my tail, thoughtfully,
And think about eternity.
Each moment will not come again,
Or will they, someday? If so, when?
I shift my weight, adjust my hooves,
And notice how the world moves.
I learn, I age, gain, and the price,
I profit by, and give advice.
There's grey in certain parts of me,
A treasure-trove, of memory.
There's lovers held, and races won,
There's things both well, and badly done.
I can be proud, I should be meek,
I grow more thoughtful, when I speak.
And yet, I watch the foals at play,
I hear the things their mothers say,
And smile, in secret, a