a sonnet

A sonnet

I sat on a stone fence, in flat agricultural
landscape, trees been planted around farms
to protect from the North Westerly wind
I had collected shiny pebbles in the stream
only to find when the stones dried they were
not shiny anymore, but dull like pebbles are
A man and horse came walking up the track
shoulder to shoulder, like two old friends.
Can the horse run fast? I innocently asked
No, he is very old now, like me, he smiled
can I pet him? The man lifted me up so
I could pet, the horse looked at me with eyes
of slaves, who no longer dream of freedom
What's left, the love of a kindhearted man