Black as night with one foot white,
16 hands, plus a half, makes her tower over man.
Ripping muscles that dance as flight of feet take to wind.
Mighty beast and friend so sweet, carries me to the land’s end.
What a pace we set to ride as Lady Anne, sets grace to stride.
With sun at 10 and ridge at 2 I watch the sky as we trot to a stop.
Westward wind crops up my back making wild my hair as we canter back. Now sun is low and the ridge has swapped and the nightly sky is quietly colored mauve. A barred owl hoot’s and a cricket hums while a lone coyote fills breaks forth in song. Sounds with in sounds bring rest to my mind, and the evening light rests on my shoulder squared. As Lady Anne and I take in the night air.