Slicing the Summer Air
You float like mist on a rainy morning,
Like the waves on the ocean, unbroken.
Your lope is as free as the eagle, soaring high,
Your trot is as smooth as the midnight sky.
Your beautiful steps across this earth
Leave assembly staring, overcome with awe.
Your shadow dances, twists… almost feline,
Always there, full of beauty, passion, genuine.
What are you; what is that breathtaking dance?
The questions are many, the answers few.
Your feet stretch skywards in the most glorious form,
Then you touch back down to run from the rainstorm.
You - the most fascinating, and terrifying, sleek, and bold,
You – the evasive, and always there; steady, and rebellious.
You are always speaking, but no sound from your lips.
The ears on your head always strain to hear, right from the tip.
The waterfall of white, black, chestnut, brown,
Is it grulla, or gray, always steaming down?
You are the wind, never here, never there; adverse.
You are that motion, that excitement – the horse.
-Bridgette