Horses in meadow

On the first clear day in several, on the way from car to back door, my glance was drawn through withered pear tree branches.

A familiar motion of far away lazy tail betrayed horses, apparitions, flashing brilliant white, deep in distant swollen green freshening meadow.

Habitually turning toward home, thinking not much of noticing the horses in their pasture, in a very few steps I realize it’s been many many years since horses pastured here. 

 

How much different can heaven be?