Ebb and flow,                             
  daily the tide,
in my memory,                            
  it won’t let me hide.               

From the past,                             
  ”there’s two of them,”
lost in a moment,                        
  much happier when.               

My greatest desire,                                 
  no plastic toy,
I hoped, instead,                         
  be a buckskin boy.                 

Always there’ll be,                                  
  a bridge between the gap,
like Legos the pieces,                  
  together they snap.                 

Forgiveness is possible,               
  learned it from a horse,
a love from a Father,                   
  has plotted my course.                       

Cool, summer breeze,                 
  bareback buckskin tide,
white foam spray,                                   
  ebb and flow we ride.
    © 2009  Randolph D. Brown Jr.