Lucky was an illustrious stallion
Midnight black, beautiful skin
Loyal, strong with muscles popping out
Like Popeye’s eyes in the sight of spinach
Seven time blue ribbon winner
Ruling Southwestern horse competitions

But that was seven years in the past
Seven years that Lucky’s life was past due
Now old, weak with brittle bones
Like Olive Oil’s skinny statue
No more ribbons, no more racing
No more jumping huddles for judges

Because the time has come, ticking away
For the once great stallion
To enter that aged dim-lit barn on the hill
With dull reddish-brown paint chipping
As those final seven minutes chip away
A horse’s final destination

The Gloria’s Glue Shop donor waits unaware
As the Winchester pump action loads
Dual red shotgun shells
No time for tears, dead memories past
As the stentorian shotgun blast indicates that
Lucky’s luck just ran out!

-2LE2REDERRELL
Derrick Derrell Rogers