vancouver

she told me, while
we sat out on the lawn
and the summer
stretched green
and warm before us,
and the stars were out,
she told me about
riding horses into
the ocean, when she
was a girl in
canada, galloping
on the sand, then
into the blue bright
waves, and how the
horses didn't struggle
but listened and went
in, their heads held
high, their legs
strong against the
current, and then how
suddenly, the horses
were swimming and
you couldn't hold on
to the reins, how
you slipped off,
you floated and
separated from your
horse as he swam
beside you, unafraid.
she told me all of
this, then began to cry.
we were girls then,
she said, we were
still just girls.