My attention is drawn to the endearing pucker of skin behind ears the shape of candle flame, my fingers in your mane and your thick smell inhaled sunshine and chaff dreams like floating Sundays. It’s afternoon in the big shed: shreds of Earth’s skin flicker in long golden slides, an air-space slaked with stars; and old timbers sagging sure as bones // grey-brown among the ghosts of cows. We’re shouldering contentment you and I. Brush swoops; and the soft wisdom that radiates from your large eyes. One hoof rests, and in tail's swish and fly's buzz, we hear the fundamentals of peace.
Written for NAPOWRIMO I am too private for a proper love poem so here is a memory of my horse who died many years ago.