Horses

She sits up high, up on the horse And sweeps her hand along the coarse White hide sticks to the hand of hers Gently bounces, dressage, no spurs Arches her back, her arms out straight Trots along the length of the gate Her body moves, one with the horse Flow with the movement, with the force Hair tosses, begin to canter With grace she rides, grace rides with her Hold back the reins, the horse he slows And from their mouths, the breath it blows Remove the saddle from his back Carry it to the barn and stack The warm horse-sweated saddle down Tired smile, no room for frown In that beautiful mouth yours Like oceans crashing on the shores And your eyes, they steal the sunset Or the sunset, it stole your eyes