A separate breed, these horses standing,
saddled and dressed in glinting tapestries
for centuries, bred for the parade of kings

who rule the world collectively, who feed
humanity, efficiently like cattle in pens –
who make war scientifically as lasting

diversions for young battle cries
amid the smoke and thunder.
And we admire them – this horseflesh.

Imagine the feel of such power
and grace to glance upon ground
you know intimately.  No forty acres

to farm with an army mule, but space
between silhouettes of ranges, the far
purple horizons that draw all envy

from souls a horseback, grinning dawn
and dusk at an ever-changing sky.
A special breed not everyone can ride.

                                              -for Rusty

2 responses to “EQUESTRIANS

  1. John, what a fine piece of poetry. I can’t describe how great it is to know people like you who stand for everything to people like us. Thanks.


  2. Thanks, Katie. We are the royalty, out there somewhere, getting more from our horseflesh than all the kings can imagine. And we can ride there, anytime in our minds.


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