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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