Share this story
Close X
Switch to Desktop Site

Your Dream Horse

is no appaloosa no spots no ribbons in her mane her tail straight behind in wind no stocking feet no blaze no star she comes to you plain out of the dust stirred by the buffalo now gone neck arched nostrils calm it is her eye that speaks to you with no sound her deep eye her soft eye you don't turn away but listen as she runs and you want to follow her back through the cloud back through dust to the past where buffalo still crop grass that drops seed to the rich earth to wait for rain

Follow Stories Like This
Get the Monitor stories you care about delivered to your inbox.