So still the herd, taking rest with soft flank to muscled shoulder, as the light shifts cooler. One nose lifts to the scent of rain coming on the breeze, the slow boil of clouds forming dark to thunder. Beyond the tree line, a slow crush of fir needles, padded footfalls and hushed birdsong. You cannot feel the … Read more
Beguiled by a young horse…
A prayer for horses.
And that late night habit…
before we had skin
A reckoning comes at the end of the day.