“Good Fortune,” a Poem

Another poem submitted by an HW activist. This one comes from Ronda Cooperstein in Maryland. Thank you, Ronda.

I heard you cried

When the yearling died

All that money lost

And precious time.

The deal you made

With the industry devil

Did not pay the way

You dreamed it would.

On the road to Kentucky

When you hauled your mare

To a proven stallion breeding camp

Like boxed-up Amazon Prime.

After all that work Good Fortune

Fell and broke a leg

You had him burned

Then buried on dead horse hill.

Do you think mother mare

Will forgive and forget?

I would not make that bet.