Wednesday, September 12, 2007

the courting

standing still in the wind,
his mane flutters about his neck.
in the near distance,
he smells her scent.
he is pulled in like water
down a fall though
his genes tell him it is danger.

she crouches in the low grass,
thinking she can't be seen.
she sees an irresistible sight,
an opportunity that can't be passed up.
already she salivates,
already tasting an easy meal.

he stares into blades of ochre
and stalks of burnt umber,
sees the glow of her yellow eyes
she thinks he can't see.
he stomps his hoof
on the hardened soil,
throws up dust like whisps of smoke.

she thought she saw fire,
she knows she saw smoke;
it can't be real.
it's just a riderless horse, lost.
how hard could this be?
how dangerous is a lone horse?

far above beyond both sets of eyes;
beyond the common senses
of earthly creatures not of god
olympians chuckle in their mirth.

september 12, 2007

1 comment:

voxmotif said...

i know how dangerous a lone horse can be.