Poem Therapy at 3:12 P.M. October 4, 2010: Testy Pony - Zachary Schomburg

Testy Pony
Zachary Schomburg

I am given a pony for my birthday, but it is the wrong kind of pony. It is the kind of pony that won't listen. It is testy. When I ask it to go left, it goes right. When I ask it to run, it sleeps on its side in the tall grass. So when I ask it to jump us over the river into the field I have never before been, I have every reason to believe it will fail, that we will be swept down the river to our deaths. It is a fate for which I am prepared. The blame of our death will rest with the testy pony, and with that, I will be remembered with reverence, and the pony will be remembered with great anger. But with me on its back, the testy pony rears and approaches the river with unfettered bravery. Its leap is glorious. It clears the river with ease, not even getting its pony hooves wet. And then there we are on the other side of the river, the sun going down, the pony circling, looking for something to eat in the dirt. Real trust is to do so in the face of clear doubt, and to trust is to love. This is my failure, and for that I cannot be forgiven.

This poem was something of a sneak attack. Read it. That last line will get you. Until I got to the last line, I was thinking about my testy shetland pony, Rocket, that found every way possible to buck me off its back or send me flying into a barbed wire fence. That Rocket hated to be accomodating in the ride department, is an understatement.Perhaps because we had a bad first encounter.

The first time I was put on his back, I was five. I held on for my life after my big brother smacked the pony on the hind quareters with a stick and then chased us around the pasture brandishing the stick and screaming with laughter. From what I remember, my other siblings thought it was hilarious. It wasn't to either the horse, or to me.

Children are beasts, and I was once a child and served up my own dish of mean-spritedness. Children soon mature into beasts of another nature altogether.

I found Schomburg's poem at poets.org Poem-a-Day feature.

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