Equus Poeticus Variabilis
I’m riding your horse, no giddyap allowed,
simply plunge into the deepest unknown.
Your voice sets the pace, it whispers
into the ears of my ride, sometimes they twitch
sometimes they find water, sometimes
the waterfalls absorb all thought. I lean
over neck, sample horse blood like a vampire,
like a computer’s command mode
taking over my brain, allowing my heart
to beat in tune, my feet to turn to hooves
and kick up or canter, moving with the rhythm
and flow, feeling the sweat of the sun
overhead and the damp of shady pines
and raking the grasses until they rustle over skin.
This is how I know you: the whisper on the wind
the stroke along my frame, the bed stead
in which I dream, the places of unimagined
like a lure, a bait, overtaking me, leading
me down a road I’ve never found
until you lent the movement of ride forever.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013
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