A Horse's Sunset Poem by Ajit Das

With a glistening young body,
shiny trimmed manes, slender legs,
the colt gracefully cantered
into the glittering world of celluloid.

It grew into a steed, galloping
along dusty roads, sandy tracks,
with a gun wielding hero
or a sabre-rattling heroine
astride on the saddle.
Its steeplechases were captured,
flashed on sliver screens,
though sidelined by riders’ heroics.

Silently it carried another load:
the burden of its master’s livelihood.
And it went on, working overtime
till sore-footed aging years
left it trotting down the slope
with awards of wounds
decorated on the skin and hoofs.

The old horse now drags its days,
drinking long from a trough, waiting,
tethered to a post, for the last sunset.