Around his neck my arms were tied
As he started down the mountain side.
I dreamed of being safe and warm
As Hawk plowed through that raging storm.
And somewhere on that awful trek
I slumped across that great arched neck.
Then thoughts came flooding in my head,
my wife sat crying by my bed.
I won't forget those words she said,
"He brought you home...but Hawk is dead.
For three whole days you've been asleep.
The snow outside is five feet deep.
Once you were home safe and sound,
Hawk whinnied once, then dead fell down."
She said "He brought you here on will,
and fell when coming down that hill.
His legs were gone, but still he came,
and when he stopped you breathed his name"
"Oh, no! My God it just can't be."
The screams were coming out of me.
"Oh, please don't tell me Hawk has died!"
Then my wife held me while I cried.
I know he wasn't man, of course.
But just a big ol spotted horse.
So tell me, should I miss him so?
My friend who took me through the snow.

Poetry by © Don Bendell