The Stallion
I wonder . . .
How could they?
Why?
It’s cruel, mean, inhumane!
And yet they do.
I wonder . . .I see a stallion in the nearby field.
He is beautiful, romping, playing,
Free.
There is a fence, but it does not bind him.
He runs, free and wild,
As if there were no fence.
He is beautiful.
A trailer pulls up.
It is small, with no windows or bedding.
Enclosed.
There is only one way in or out
And no room to move.
And there is no food.
It makes me sad to see it.
They lead the beautiful stallion inside.
He looks so depressed with nowhere to go.
Very depressed.
His head is low to the floor,
As if he will never see the freedom of his pasture again,
As if he knows his fate.
The stallion is taken to a building.
He can see many other horses, sick, starving,
Dying.
He can see that they were not always so sickly.
No, some of them were obviously healthy not too long ago.
But not anymore.
He is taken to a corral that is already filled
With many of these once beautiful creatures.
Beautiful no more.
One by one they are taken from his corral.
He cannot see their fates,
But he knows there is death nearby.
Suddenly there is a man by his side,
Roughly dragging him out of the corral.
Fear.
Yes, fear envelops the stallion.
He is led to other men, all looking cruelly upon him.
And then the stallion is no more.
I wonder . . .
How could they?
Why?
It’s cruel, mean, inhumane!
And yet they do.
I wonder . . .