Day 10. Prompt: write a going somewhere poem.
Galloping, galloping
faster than the wind
I rode my dapple-grey
(although some days
she was brown)
across golden fields
and through thick forests,
my face burning
from wind and thrill
as we raced to keep up
(and we always kept up,
we could not be beat)
with the green Chevy Impala
that carried my family
and towed our camper
from state to state
that summer.