When the wind blows up canyon,
first light gray,
I am the old red horse,
twenty-five, bucking in place.
We never loose it, that wanting
stirred and satisfied—
to be wild again
when everything is right.
We feel his feeble effort,
hooves barely off the ground,
our whoops and cheers
howling on a damp wind.
drycrikjournal 
This line was a sweet aha moment:
We never loose it, that wanting
stirred and satisfied—
to be wild again
when everything is right.
Do you think it will ever stop? I mean before we’re dead, of course!
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I think that once we’ve felt it, we don’t forget how good it felt (frankly) to be alive.
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I get that feeling some times, but then I generally fall off some ledge . . . Ha!
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A guy’s got to be careful and not hurt himself.
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“When everything is right…”
Felt that again when giving my little 7month old granddaughter horsey rides on my knee. Oh that wonderful sound of delight in her little voice…
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