Out the window

Day 10. Prompt: write a going somewhere poem.

Galloping, galloping

faster than the wind

I rode my dapple-grey

(although some days

she was brown)

across golden fields

and through thick forests,

my face burning

from wind and thrill

as we raced to keep up

(and we always kept up,

we could not be beat)

with the green Chevy Impala

that carried my family

and towed our camper

from state to state

that summer.

What do you think?

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