“Heaven must be a Kentucky kind of place.” – Daniel Boone

Don’t you think
the gates swing open

to a pasture, mares
grazing a green hill

at sunset, golden light
gilding wisps of mane

on the breeze, and velvet-
nosed foals to frisk

and frolic, a sky blushed
in eternal wonder, white

fences, too, not barriers
but hugs, gentle arms

to hold us, safe and warm
under one close star,

a kind, watchful eye
shining endless love?