Equus Ferus

Horse 1
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

He arrives mid-morning,
pawing the hot dust,
blunt thrust of snorting muscle
penetrating the corral.
 

His scent punches the air;
damp and pungent,
the rumbling aftershock
shoulder-charging my nostrils.
 

He parades, slowly,
rippled flanks
drip-feeding lusty morsels
as I resist the pull to approach.
 

The rope is coiled
and dry in my hands;
a flaccid snake that dare not
harness his sculpted throat.
 

I undress, wait,
quivering in the dirt,
while unshod hooves
imprint concentric whispers.
 

He comes to me, quietly,
in hard, shallow breaths,
allows me to grasp his withers,
clamber onto his unsaddled back.
 

I lower my quiet ache
to his dark neck,
animal heat flushing,
and it is in this brief fracture,
 

his body clasped to my breast,
his unspoken verse
pressed to my temples,
that we commune.
 
 

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2 Comments

Filed under Free Verse, Poetry

2 responses to “Equus Ferus

  1. Jacqui grant

    I love this. It captures the passion and beauty of the horses spirit while also touching on how we as humans long to be accepted by the horse and feel at one with its great strenght and gentleness.

  2. My, my. Someone was feeling fired up today! One can almost sense that spirit in the air–the sense of surrender to the majesty of the wild.

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