It was a four-horse race at
Santa Anita.
I was with my old man and
little brother.
I put everything I had on
the number 3 horse to show.
His name was Dusty’s Diaper.
Shoemaker was aboard;
the shoe, for God’s sake.
It was a sure thing.
All he had to do was not
come in fourth place.
I learned that day,
in a horse race,
that anything can happen.
I was 12 years old.
And like horse racing,
In life, anything can
happen.
Amidst the California evening,
On our way to the car,
I thought my Dad
would live forever.








Poignant to the point of poetic perfection Thomas .. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐👍👍
Thank you.
This has a immense warmth to it.
Much enjoyed.
regards
james
Thank you.
Hi Thomas.
I completely agree with Nev.
I also liked how you specified 12 years old.
Gave perspective to the reader.
Thanks.
Powerfully penned, Thomas. Excellent write my friend, this one pulled at these old heartstrings of mine. Amazing work. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you.
Hello Thomas. Your writing pulls me in every time. As though I’m standing right by you, living through what you wrote. Marvelous description, memorable write.
I appreciate that.
Beautiful write. The ending really got to me. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you.
I appreciate that.
First you took us to a memory. Then that last line. And that is the reason the memory matters. Beautiful. I knew mine wouldn’t live long, still hurts he’s gone