For JRF
His black mane shines with bear grease
tendrils braided tight
tradition of the high step in his stance
the royalty of ancestry in his breath
- echo
His hoof slides across my ground,
caresses me as Mother
pebbles freckle my back
I roll in green linen
- sigh
His heart quickens as my breath
excites him to race, to explore
curves of my landscape
legs open to the horizon
beckons, green linen
falls away to crystal light
- breathe
The moon steals the sunset
captures his breath he relaxes
into my darkness comforted in
green linen wrapped in my arms
once more.
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