This mare is skittish

Mistrustful of fences and ropes

She prefers to gallop with her colts

In the back forty meadow

Outpacing the wind, wildly

Her admirers wait

Fence watching

Lined up

Where she’ll saunter by

Taking an apple or a carrot

At her pleasure

But mindful that they have saddles and bridles

Waiting in those dusty pick-ups

I wait in the shadows

Beyond the rest

I offer sugared words

And carry no lariats

I wear no spurs

I have no saddle

Besides, I prefer her back bare

And if the price to ride with her

Is to bear her weight on top of mine

I’ll do it, with gusto

Hooves and all

Carrying on to the ends of the earth

Where noble Pegasus will lift a wing

To send us skyward

To be remade into a brilliant constellation

Shining brightly in the night sky


David Trudel   © 2012



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