Clarence always liked this grassy hillside. The
boy used to ride him up here often. There is
plenty of grass to eat and the gradual downslope
made it an easy trip back to the barn for a twenty-
year-old horse with cancer. There is water up here
as well. The serene surface of the brimming pond
mirrors the green of the trees and the crayola clouds
that sketch the sky. The air is orange with butterflies,
bees buzz with the subtlety of a vibrating harpstring,
and dandelion puffs float randomly at the whim of a
gentle breeze. The boy sits on a red blanket on the
hillside, because he can’t bear to see what is going
to happen this morning. A distant gunshot shatters the
sunny day. Then, from far away, he watches a tractor
slowly make its way from the barn, up the dust-
whipped road, toward the south pasture. A brown
horse is in the bucket, legs dangling over the sides.
From his vantage point, the boy can even see the hole
they dug yesterday with a backhoe, ten-feet long, five-feet
wide and five-feet deep. That will be his final resting
place. He tried to tell them that Clarence would have liked
this grassy hillside, but no one would listen to a boy.//
Advance Directive by William Haynes | Sandalwood Reed Diffuser
William Ogden Haynes is a poet and author of short fiction from Alabama who was born in Michigan. He has published several collections of poetry and many of his poems and short stories have appeared in literary journals and anthologies. http://www.williamogdenhaynes.com
