Equus

Muscles churning, coiling, tightening, releasing, 

Bunched beneath the rawhide saddle, slick with

Foam and sweat, a dirty brown lather frothing 

At the shoulder, obscuring the flea-bitten gray

Coat wrapped around the powerful creature, 

Whose magnificent galloping strides fly toward

A starlit horizon, soaked in plum and magenta. 

  

Pounding hooves echo through the rain-washed canyon

Dripping in darkness and delirium, the sound cracking

Sharply against the rugged terrain, sun-baked and raw, 

A visage hideous to the eye, but necessary for survival.

Veins pulse beneath russet legs, elegant and dainty on 

The surface, but wrapped in sinewy tendons, sparks of 

Fire igniting deep in the cells, a combustion of energy. 

 

Chest heaving, puffs of chalky breath frost the sky, 

Each one wavering, tendrils of steam curling around

Quivering lips slick with saliva, a beast of endurance, 

Strength now waning, struggling against the restraints 

Of mortal flesh, determined to faithfully serve a master

Whose bond runs deeper than the ancient bedrock 

Underfoot, obscuring the soul of the Arabian desert. 

 

Fists clenched, knuckles turning white, the hooded 

Stranger leans forward in the saddle, one hand 

Stroking the quivering neck of his steed, touch soft,

Soothing and gentle, allowing a warm stream of 

Comfort to seep beneath its coat, an invisible thread 

Of communication, telepathy, and clairvoyance, a quiet

Transference of energy blossoming between the two. 

 

Fused as one mind, one body, rider and mount share 

Their strength, each clinging to a stoicism quickly 

Dimming, coalescing with the scarlet horizon, fleeting

Back to the foot of its creator. Their journey is at last 

Nearing a close, each chapter of their past folded 

Neatly like a pair of worn reins lying limp, waiting for 

A new dawn to break, washing clean the endless night.