I stand where she stood a lifetime ago...


With the shape of a heart in the rock at her crown,

Her dress moves in unison with the white horse that gallops 

On the rillping flag.


My scarf keeps me warm.


Exhaling a desperate sigh of hopelessness and grief,

She feels that her future is bleak.


Then she sees them against the vast grey,

Six hooves gather momentum and

break the never changing river,

A silent silver-braid.