Horses; Poetry About Horses

I love horses, horse-riding, untacking and even cleaning out stables.

Heads tossing, flicking forelocks from liquid-black-brown eyes,

Manes flying in all directions,

Rusted horseshoes, dust-caked hooves,

Pounding arched pockmarks into the earth.


Tarnished silver bit,

Froth dyed pink-red,

By the tearing and pulling of reins,

Cutting the corners of velvety lips.


Snorting steam like a grey dragon,

Rolling of eyes and stomping of hooves,

Kicking up dirt from the dented ground,

Wildly swishing tail whipping at insects.


Ears pushed flat against the skull,

In fright, in anger, in rebellion.

Arched neck twisted back, nostrils flaring,

Mouth open, bruises the unfortunate rider.



The End

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