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Daisy in my Olathe

Danika

Thick willow and alders tangle round my face and over my arms. A swish of a tail, a flash of black we know she’s not far.

My horse and me jump a log, my eyes are mostly closed. We come out on the trail a quick breathe before we dive down the other side, I check for tracks, as I look down at my boots. There’s a Daisy in my Olathe tucked in my spur, sittin kinda cute.


In all that blow down and thick brush I wonder where this daisy came from. She must be a wild soul, a gypsy like me. Take a hold and go along for the ride kinda gal.


We dive down the bank into a goose berry patch we swing way right and come up on that cows flank. She spooks up back on the trail. She knows she can’t be beat.

I look down at my Boot. Our gypsy gal is gone off on another adventure. That Daisy in my Olathe.



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