words in the corral

can be unbridled and wild in so many ways
can be hobbled and hooded
tied up for the night
turned loose in the day

they stray sometimes
lost thoughts in box canyons
then rounded up and roped together
forming thoughts
good, bad, curses and prayers

magical things words
powerful and powerless
the herd once had a master
now not worth his salt

still its words that have
cast a light
the one small once shining spot
'fore he cloaked it in rage

his words called it hate, diffident
sealed off from the world

tonight i've moved some dust
brushed off some rust
mending a few fence rails
wondering why can't i not fall

the corral is empty
the false ponies of happiness
sent home for the night