Horse

It is easy to love a horse. Affectionate exchanges Are straightforward. He is not jealous, He does not demand more Than his due; When you walk away, He does not taunt, Whine or grovel. If you step aside To clap a passing dog, He does not complain Pettily or bitterly. It is easy to love a horse. His eyes are perfect almonds Filled with pools of moonlight, Fringed by lashes, bulrush-black And exquisitely formed. When you stroke his flank His eyes slip shut in ecstasy. Run your cool palm Down the warm chute of his face And he will tilt his head Into your side like a tired lover Nudging you to stay. Flaring delicate nostrils, He draws up The skin curtain of his lips, Nichering softly. His mane smells of the wind - I breath him in. Like a struck tuning fork, I resonate with Echoes of barns, Sun-hot meadows of hay - He has me harnessed. Almost, I neigh with happiness.