"Blessings All Around" by Cal Freeman

I wanted the legs of everyone to be blessedWith a convenient gait, stridesThat would get them from pointTo point. I wanted to avoid the greatParadoxes. Everyone ran aroundThe park, some like turkeys,Some like old goats grazing, so muchLike old goats grazing in the sunThat you couldn't tell if they were running.Some on wheels so their bad hipsTook no stress. Some lopedLike horses. The rangers trottedOfficiously like horses. Some rangersTrotted officiously on horses.The more I tried to describeThe way these people ran I came to the phrase --Like Horses. It was a proud feelingIn a time when those feelingsWere hard as a honeycomb to come by.