❤️ Shiskin ❤️
Somewhere . . . in time’s own space, there must be some sweet, pastured place
Where creeks sing on – and tall trees grow, some paradise where horses go,
For by the love that guides my pen, I know great horses live again.
It’s by Stanley Harrison
Run free beautiful boy. 💔
Things turn out best for those who make the best of how things turn out...