Susan Minyard has an unending love for persons and objects and landscapes. They easily swallow her and spit her back out into her own life. This time she has chosen Tucson, AZ, a place she considers home more than any other. She wishes she was a photographer, and occasionally picks up the Nikon expectantly. She feels the wind against her cheeks and in her hair even when there is no wind. She does have college degrees. Still, she cannot stop writing and that has become her most essential and named asset.
In Texas I passed
a creamy all(white) mare
with blue in her heart.
It was after the Appaloosas
in New Mexico, grazing
between yellows and prickly pears.
She had a waiting stance
had heard of Robert Frost
nudged the fence line
lowered her head
pawed the ground.
And I moved on
speed of the world.
I couldn’t have known.