The Tan Horse

The Tan Horse

By Kirsten Nelson

The train rocks back and forth,

Swaying gently like a leaf upon the breeze,

I'm finally going home,

After so much time away,

Rida Rida Ranka,

I hear the voices of my past come back to me,

My fathers lap underneath my little body,

Him bouncing his legs to create a mock horse,

Hasten Hestar Blanka,

His words gentle in my ears,

The tan fabric of his slacks clutched in my little hands,

A tan horse beneath my legs,

Riding through the wilds of the west,

After the no-good bandit Jesse James,

The sky is mystic blue,

Clouds are puffy and soft,

I'm free as the wild coyote,

Vart Ska Va Rida?

He laughs as I squeal in excitement,

As the last line of the rhyme starts,

He'll toss me up high like a bird,

As free as the eagle,

Rida Sta Och Fria

The rhyme will end,

He'll tell me he loves me,

And I'll beg for him to start again,

Once again he'll laugh and say,

"Just one more time, and then to bed"

And we will start again,

A woman knocks on the compartment door,

Asks me if I'm hungry,

Reality comes rushing back,

The compartment blank and cold,

The vinyl sticky against my skin,

And I remember where I am,

Do I let the past go free?

Or hold it down forever?

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