The mare stands square, extending
her neck, surveying the pond marsh.
Are the coyotes on the move? She
takes three or four precise steps
closer and holds, eyes alert for small
movements out of rhythm. So aware
of the earth’s language, without the
dulling filter of floors and walls, she
feels change by the shifting texture of
the soil under her hooves. A sudden
gust from the north tosses her tail,
agitating each hair on her body, mixing
the scent of wild and tame. Water birds
climb to air but this is home. Our mare
flicks an ear to check the herd. We are
not safe but we hold dear to this place.
Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward
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