Foal

Foal

Proud and statuesque he stood,
this ebon foal
on a rocky hilltop
in northern Nevada,
all Mustang male dreaming
of becoming first yearling
and then later,
after outrunning puma,
wolves, and Winchesters—
a strong black stallion.

Horses remember everything,
every kindness, every cruelty,
every danger, every passion,
and this frisky colt was
plugged into prehistoric visions
of his North American ancestors,
fox-sized, tapir-like,
forest dwelling;
the first equine, 20,000 years
before America was America;
genetically recalling the glaciers
and the coming of the Ice,
pushing the ponies
further and further
until nothing was left to them
but the land bridge, the entrance
to the lush green steppes of Asia;
loving especially those memories
of his short legs growing longer,
and his speed increasing with
his new height
and stronger shoulders,
how one day he became
Equus Prime.

His Iberian predecessors arrived back
in the Americas, strapped into stalls,
on galleons, with the Conquistadors;
first with Columbus in the West Indies
in 1493, and a few years later
with explorers--
Cortez, Coronado, and De Soto.
Their beautiful steeds were
of Andalusian, Arabian, and Barb blood,
with long manes and tails
and huge black eyes.
Some Native Americans stole them—
eating these strange “deer”
long before they learned to ride them.
Others bolted after hearing
coyotes or wolves,
ran off, or were abandoned.
The Spanish called them “mestengo”,
the lost ones.


These feral horses came to be
called Mustangs and their herds
swelled throughout the Southwest,
running free for hundreds of years.
They became the mutts of Equus,
part every breed that strayed
into their midst;
but in the past century
there were ignorant ranchers
who shot them to make more forage
for their cattle, and Mustangers
who trapped them for dog food.
Like the bison, their herds dwindled
until 1971
when the Federal Government
decided to protect them.

Yes, of course, when his parents,
Fury & Flicka,
made the Foal memorize
the Colt’s Catachism,
the Congressional Equine Litany,
he did.
He could recite every word of it:

“Mustangs are living symbols of the
historic and pioneer spirit of the West,
which continue to contribute to the
diversity of life forms within
the Nation and enrich the lives of
the American people.”

“Damn rights, Senator,”
thought the Foal,
“Now—watch me gallop
with my head and tail held high—
and eat my dust.”

Glenn Buttkus March 2010