Well, this is rough, but we are editing and writing more daily. The problem is that we write a million words, and then we excise 999,990 to make it say everything in perfection and simplicity, forgetting that we remember every word, but the readers never saw them. Forgive my audacity, and bear with me. This next few posts should include work on some of the original posts, and perhaps the city poem for Manila. Enjoy, and feedback, please.
A horse is a thing to love,
to touch for the hope of feeling the coat
gather as the muscles quiver in the lightning
emotion of being close.
Love is found in a horse’s eyes,
deeper than pools of endless ink
soft with the light of trust and affection
she demands your direction —
for survival, but gives, without counting
All her breath and warmth of sighs for you
— rolling her shoulders smoothing your saddle
waving the mane for healing your soul
carrying the heat, the playful touches
a weathered caress and more
you must give your share and find
love for your friend as sweet
as a mares own toss of her mane
at the yearling — and you.