Category: Writers Block
The palomino mare has been unleashed.
She can no longer control herself;
her joy is not containable.
She is wild with elation.
When the stall door is opened
and she is led out to the pasture,
she does not do
a sad, slow walk--
not a relaxed, constant trot--
not a giddy, jumping gallop,
but a euphoric, rapid run.
The wind whistles through
her white mane and tail.
Her hooves hit the ground like
perpetual balls of hail.
She is a streaking thunderbolt
as dust lifts in her wake.
She is happy because she is free--outside,
no longer in the confines of the stall,
no longer trapped and closed in,
no longer contained.
The fresh air enters and leaves
her starving nostrils.
And she only stops to take the offered apples--
more energy for the run of freedom.