—on a painting by Edward Hopper
Pegasus
A flying red horse
was a sign of my time.
On drives anywhere
along a center white line
with mom and dad, when
we rolled in to fill-her-up
I’d see him there through my
backseat window as on my
couch-like seat I laid supine,
and there he’d be, flying high
way up there on a Mobile sign
on a tall white post in an
olden time when I innocently
thought life was truly sublime
when horses could fly and
all things rhymed
Jim Culleny
12/5/25
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