I wrap my heavy robe over the flannel gown, and in my barn boots
trudge down Hwy 574 to feed the horses.
It's nearly 8 a.m., and they've been standing at the fence
eyeing me out with the dogs;
they wonder why room service is so slow.
My loose hair flies in this misty wind.
I cannot wonder what the neighbors think --
they say they love my fortitude.
That is enough, and the horses have been fed.
How I Named My Blog
Being a poet and an occasional pun-ster, the "Not on the Road" title is multi-layered. First, it was a response to old Jack K's "On the Road," since I'm definitely not he. Also, I've moved around a bit throughout my life (like in the last two and a half years!), and I'm sick of being ON the road. And of course, being an animal lover and very active in dog rescue work, I don't like seeing animals, wild or domestic ON the road, dead or alive.