The Spirit of SequelBy Thornton W. Blease
I have this feeling that you are watching me, waiting for me to come down the driveway,
to pass by the flat metal cutout horse that marks your grave. The metal catches the sun’s reflection and creates a rainbow extending behind the pine trees, and through the Morris Canal. You wait at the Rainbow Bridge for me every day. You watch with your Chestnut eyes, eyes that felt prickly on my skin not so long ago. Eyes that made me shiver, eyes that melted my heart.
You will wait in all kinds of weather. Snow, soft, silky flakes that you love the best. Flakes easy to canter through with your friends. You wait with your boarded-up eyes and twitching ears, alert at attention, predictable, swinging like signs in the wind. You wait with your mane flowing, crusted with snow. And smile as I walk Marcus past you. Marcus, both kind and confusingly naughty. I know you sent him to me.
You knew he needed special kindness. Understanding. You knew that his behavior could land him in a bad place. But not with me. So, you sent him for the love you had. The love you still have in my heart. As the snow falls faster, creating a snow globe world along the canal. Snow falling through a hint of sun that bounces off a three feet tall, silver-colored cutout of a horse, enough sun to create the Rainbow Bridge. You stand solidly on the Rainbow Bridge, your snow-covered mane flowing. You wait, with your back to the pine trees. You wait for me to pause with Marcus, to bow my head in respect. To shed a tear. Just one. Marcus, with his thick bay brown fur pauses. He lowers his head to thank you for sharing me. You will wait at the Rainbow Bridge until we are together again.