The Horse

He moves

Fludily

Under me.

Musceles rippling burnished

Bronze

In the sunlight.

His mane

Slapping

Me in my face.

Galloping it

Feels

Like flying.

The ground

Rushing

Past in motion.

It feels like

Riding

A wave.

Never ending

Yet

Power ful.

Kings ride

Them

As a symbol.

I like

The

Rush of riding.

When I

Ride

I fly inside.