10She mounts up,
Placing her feet in the stirrups,
Giving the cue to go forward.
She speeds up,
The gait becomes a smooth, rocking sensation.
She counts the strides,
One...two...three..one..
She leans forward
Demanding more speed.
The wind whipping through the trees.
Her hair a mane.
She drowns out
All other sounds besides
The beating of her hooves.
She stretches out.
Her muscles surge forward.
She crosses the finish line,
Roses around her neck.
Her photo taken.
She is in the winner's circle.