Sleigh Ride
Never in my life did I ride in a sleigh
but I can picture it,
not the one with Santa Claus
& those magic reindeer
but that one-horse version
out of Currier & Ives,
the horse tromping through the snow
snorting steam, a bit grumpy
to be working tonight
in these difficult conditions
yet enjoying it in spite of himself,
which I can tell
by the spring in his step
as he draws me farther & farther
across this field of white
toward the dark woods ahead.
33 thoughts on "Sleigh Ride"
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I felt it all the way, including inside the horse
Thanks Mike!
Yeah , what Mike said!!!
I really love what you did there.
A whole novel painted in couplets.
Wow! I just realized its a broken sonnet!!!!
Dahm….pro!!!
Beautiful imagery accessible, personal and clear as cold air.
Bravo!
Thanks Coleman!
Crisp and refreshing beauty. Love the images!
Thanks H.A.!
how can such a comfortable ride come to an end in the poem feeling a bit chilling?
Fair point, Gaby. I guess my imagination is always headed toward those woods…
I’m with Gabby! The chilling ending lands well. A classic Kevin poem that foreshadows death. Is there time for hot chocolate before the inevitable?
Ha ha! Yes there’s time for hot chocolate! I’ll drink it on my deathbed if there’s any in arm’s reach…
This poem took me down a path of thought about time and nostalgia and I was able to see myself in it
Good to hear, Sean. My metaphors must be working…
Of course, I like the ominous ending, those dark woods. What’s waiting there?, one wonders. Nice one, Kevin.
Thanks Bill! Whatever it is, it’s waiting for us all.
Loved this portrait of Currier & Ives sleigh ride with ominous ending.
Thanks Linda!
Come on guys. I thought the dark woods was just on the way to Grandma’s house.
Right? And the Big Bad Wolf… 😏
I love the mystery of the ending, Kevin.
Thanks Nancy!
Nice homage to Frost, in your imagination. “Stopping By Woods” is always with us.
Thanks Carole!
Leave the windows open in your new old car during a snowstorm. The only thing you’ll miss in the experience is the Odor of horse manure. Though actually your new old car might offer that also.
Ha ha! I’ll remember this advice when winter comes. The horse manure won’t stink as much then. 😏
If Robert Frost and Norman Rockwell had a baby . . . .
Cool idea, Sylvia! I’ll take it as a compliment.
I like it. It feels like the journey on the way to a poem, to a thought I do not yet know
Interesting. Hmmmm…
Yep, feeling the cold, hearing the ‘tromp”, and seeing “snorting steam”….well drawn, Kevin!
Thanks Pam!
Gotta love a horse poem! It’s vivid. Well done!
Love the last image. It’s unexpected in its ominous chill. I wonder if you’re thinking of horse-drawn carriages after the fatality in NYC?
Another great demonstration of your skills!
“yet enjoying it in spite of himself,” resonates on so many levels, for having been around horses enough.
There is also French poem by Paul Fort turned into a song “Le petit cheval” by the folk singer George Brassens. The story doesn’t end well for the white horse in that song, but he was happy carrying people along.