a slice of memory

shana dale...do you remember that name? pronounced shane-a...well i do...i was about six years old at a horse show with my friend and his family...they were really into horses...i like horses too, but never would have thought about going to one of these shows if it wasn't for them...up rides shana in her full regalia...my friend's mother knew her from the circuit...she introduced her to me, first name and last...shana was cold, even at six she was how i suspected some proper, blue blooded, horse person to be...i didn't think much of her, and i never saw her again...but i remember the day like it was yesterday...the color of the sky, the smell of the track, the look and feel of my friend's rusty suburban...and the sensation and anxiety of having a new experience...seeing a new world...and tonite almost twenty-five years later, half in the bag, beaten, bruised, and watching the tube...someone mentioned horse shows, and like a flash i remembered shana...sitting prim and proper on her filly...towering over us...cold as ice...memory is a strange thing, especially on cool june nights, with the moon shining almost full in the sky above...