Shake your shining
silver mane,
let your nostrils
flare-
smell the damp perfume
of Earth,
drink the crisp
fall air.
Boulders steep
and threatening:
impulse of fear
cries
hold you back.
Instead,
I give you rein.
You take the hill
and in your own
wise rhythm
negotiate the stones.
As we mount the crest
touching level ground,
your flank sweats
beneath me
as we heave
a joyous sound!
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