09/03/2025
“The Plight of the Summer Camp Horse”
They come with the sun in a older trailer,
Shipped in like tools for the seasonal labor.
Gentle of eye, with a wearied grace,
Each one assigned a small wooden place.
Children arrive with bright, bouncing cheers,
Unaware of the burdens these horses bear.
They ride with joy, with reins pulled tight,
Unsteady hands, and hearts alight.
The horses walk the same worn trail,
Past pine and stream and splintered rail.
They nod through songs and laughter’s din,
Tolerant backs, thin under skin.
Morning to dusk, they rarely rest,
Each collar cinched on a tender chest.
Dust on their coats, sweat under their manes,
Soft mouths sore from novice reins.
Then autumn comes, the children gone,
And with them, care and a softer dawn.
The pasture gate does not swing wide;
The horses load for another ride.
But not to rest, not to roam free
Some go to auctions, thin above the knee.
Ribs like rakes, and spirits low,
Discarded now, with winter’s snow.
Some find mercy in rescue hands,
In hay-filled stalls and kinder lands.
Others fall to crueler fates,
Sold by the pound, beyond barn gates.
They gave our children safety and joy,
Taught courage to each girl and boy.
Yet when the campfire’s ashes cool,
The horse is left, a forgotten tool.
Let us not turn our eyes away
From those who labored day by day.
Their story should be known, of course,
The silent plight of the summer camp horse
I started this poem earlier this year when we brought home the sweetest camp horse. The true reality of it is some camps keep their horses, especially if they use them throughout the year for lessons and such. However, many of them send the B string or horses who have aged out to sales. I pull many of them from sales or “fertilizer fields” at KPs.
