The Stallion

Painting by Bill Jaxon

The Stallion


On a late spring dawn
following exhaustion and emptiness
the sound of stamping hooves
rustled the curtains at the window
and woke me from doubtful sleep

Silently I rose to watch through
the screen the stallion rise in his paddock
to strike the air and the puff of
dust as to Earth he returned again

Then the powerful hip propelled
him forward
in fluid floating motion
and making a wide arc
he approached the fence
in shortening stride
he collected himself
only to abort
then stand and snort
at the quiet mares
who only nickered their encouragement

His ears prick in my direction
at the the low words I speak through
the gray morning damp air
He looks into my eyes as I approach
I stand before my equal in acknowledged
truce and watch my reflection in his eye

Then,
slowly, the relection
begins to move
and change
time falls away
and I sense my body differently
and feel the Earth through all four legs

© 1995 Rod Smothers All rights reserved