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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/835533-Horse-and-Rider
by Tanna
Rated: E · Prose · Experience · #835533
A prose-poem about the joys of a rider and her horse.
Horse and Rider

A hot snort of air
Smelling of half-chewed grass
Drifts by my face
A thousand burning butterflies
Dancing over my arms and senses
As the painful-looking twisted
Metal bit is taken.

Ankles stiff in stiffer boots
Almost painful as we walk
In silence through the archway
Down the well-trod path
Until our small procession
Reaches the hard-packed earth
Bright and dusty,
sandy yellow, deep southern red
In a curve both to and from
The point by which we stand.

The command is given
From the center of the ring
In one swift motion he and I
Are joined, for a time, as one
My thoughts, nearly seamlessly,
Translated to his motions.
The ripple of taut muscles,
the pounding strength of step,
the height, before above my head
Sharpen senses ever more
Until every blade of grass
Is seperate from its neighbor,
Every whisper of wind
A lion's roar
And each of the sun's rays is blinding.

I nudge him forward
And---oh!---the thrill extends
Sharpened senses focus in
The world becomes naught but he and I
Picking up speed, in stages
As dictated by the distant voice
Echoing from the ring's center.
As each resonating step
Increases in speed
My pounding heart, too, beats swifter
More sure with every moment.

Faster and faster till it feels we might fly
Only needing a thought from me
And he would lift his feet
And no longer would we be
two creatures of the earth
But a single soul in the sky.
A feeling of freedom ripples over my skin
A cool refreshing breeze
A warm, encompassing, consoling blanket
of reassurance
That this wonderful treasure I've found
Upon the back of this magnificent beast
Offering up his feeling of freedom
Graciously, to share with me.

The pounding slows
Before I have even realized
I signaled as the voice commanded
And gradually the focus fades
The unity between us
Once more master and beast
But as he snorts I hear his silent laughter
His ears pull back,
Not from the tickling of a fly,
But from the humor in sensing
What the voice has missed
That for a time, both he and I
Were joined together as one.
© Copyright 2004 Tanna (tanna at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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