(Image copyright, Lincoln Rogers. May not be copied or used without written permission by Lincoln Rogers)

In memory of September 11, 2001. May we never forget.

The Most of It
By Lincoln Rogers - September, 2002


It was that hour of morning,
Time to feed all our horses.
Didn’t matter the date,
Or how fate chose its courses.

They knew nothing of loss,
Or of the many that died.
In that morning last year,
When our whole nation cried.

They just knew they were hungry,
And their bellies craved hay.
There weren’t frets for the future,
Only thoughts of today.

I watched them roll in the pasture,
Run and kick their legs high.
Stop and eat some alfalfa,
Find some shade from the sky.

And knew that was the answer,
Like a bolt from above.
Spend some time each day playing,
With the ones that you love.

That could mean there’s some laughter,
Or just quiet to share.
But take a cue from our horses,
And make the most of what’s there.

Take care out there. Lincoln