The smell of a barn sticks to you like that of a last cigarette.

Shavings and horsehair cling to your sweaty body.

The smell of the fresh load of hay,

Lingers in the air of the hot summer day

Indoor barn and indoor arena

25 stalls lined with 25 fans;

The horses screaming their demands

The concrete isle

Announces each horses arrival.

Country music playing in the background

The Mexican boys run from stall to stall

Their horses prepared for their master’s call

When unsure of what to do

They ask in broken English for a clue.

The master looks at them unsure of what he heard

My uncle’s form of Spanish add an “O” to every word

“Saddle-o for the horse-o.”

They look at him with questioning eyes

“Sia para el caballo,” I try to clarify.

From upstairs in the boys apartment comes a smell

Cooking Mexican food brings back memories from home; I can tell.

 For the smallest moment they pause and I can see

Them trying to recall a distant memory

The longing in their eyes makes me wish

That I had something so dear to miss

Spanish music plays in the distance

And for a second I am lost

In a world that is not my own

I wonder why they work with such persistence

When no one here cares of their existence

And then I remember the stories they told

Of good and bad and young and old

But no matter the tale they told

One thing that held true; they love their home

And back to work I go

Brush strokes heard from stall to stall,

The bay fillies kicking down her wall.

In the dryer clinging clanking

Sheets and blankets buckles breaking.

In the wash stall Marty’s grunting

Continue scrubbing never daunting

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Down the rail Max comes marching

Even steps are always taken

Under us the footings shaken!

Feel their power through the ground

Hoof beats making beautiful sound.

A serene and peaceful place I love to go.

Summer seasons full of shows.

Working everyday

For minuscule pay

Is worth all my time

Even though technically it’s a crime.

My favorite time is after five

When everything comes alive.

The horses are fed

And put to bed

And I sit around

And listen to the sounds

And wonder how I could do anything else.