It’s for me to worry about a winter dry
enough for early grass fires, mine the
worry for a hay supply next summer.
Horses sense the waking season with
calm certainty. The ground is warmer
in the mornings now, softening tight
muscles, easing old bones. They smell
something green stirring just below
the dirt, soon we’ll have sweet young
grass dangling from our lips. For now
it’s enough that dark days have passed,
that warmth is returning to the sun.