Photo & Poem: Owning Herself


Save your pity. It means nothing. She’s
a big mare, broad chest and straight legs,
her coat the color of soil that could grow
rose gold, imperial topaz, and chocolate.

She talks in all directions at once, not that
she cares, with her ears shouting orders and
her body dwarfed by her ageless spirit that
has not found its own limit. If she needed

you, she wouldn’t say. Get your lead-footed
humanity out of the way, she tosses out a bold
challenge with the flash of her tail. Discover
a new world with me. If you can keep up.


Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

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Anna Blake

18 thoughts on “Photo & Poem: Owning Herself”

  1. I have never had a mare and rarely ridden one, but I know from past trainers and current friends what a challenge they are — no wonder they lead the herd. To Brits, they are like Nature’s Howlers (our aunts), to use a Harry Potter term.


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