i can write a ten-minute poem
fingertips touched
with years of hesitation

i am not accustomed
to holding these reins
lost in college years
i never took advantage of

i drive the carriage now
as we gallop across new lands
their realism lit up with logic
while at home we count coins

they know me well
how cautiously i shake these reins
like kings of the same root
our horses will fly us home