MUSTANG SONG
for redheads
thundering, billowing
racing cloud of dust
shrouds pounding hooves.
the noon sun looks down
on earth’s wild horses.
parched, thirsty throats,
yet, the beasts race on.
what do they run from?
what do they seek?
or do they just run to run?
manes and tails tossing recklessly
in self-made breeze,
sweat rivulets coursing down
strong, lean backs,
and yet, they run.
how I yearn to be
an untamed mustang.
see me run.
tossing off the fastest,
breaking into the lead.
I breathe no one’s dust.
clear air fills my lungs,
adrenaline powers my limbs
as I race toward freedom.
I’m flying on the earth
a bird without wings.
the hot, pungent sage
stings my nostrils.
my unshod hooves
dance to a song
unheard by man.
if you could hear it,
the mustang song,
could you feel it?
could you breathe it?
would you dance,
unshod in the sand?
would the mustang song
pulse through your veins?
could you answer it’s call?
thundering, billowing
racing, cloud of dust
shrouds pounding hooves.
the noon sun looks down
on earth’s wild horses.
parched, thirsty throats,
yet, the beasts race on.
TWO TEARES
2 Aug 1992
