You’ll enjoy the short walk of his company,
as will he: singled out from the others
to push his nose eagerly into the halter, lowering
his head so you can easily fasten the buckle.
Rest your arm on his warm neck
as you wait for a passing ute,
lean into the could-only-be-horse smell of him,
see his ear turn just a few degrees in your direction,
like an old man cupping his hand, to hear
you say go on. Turn him loose and stay awhile,
watch him graze, lifting his head to sounds
of minute-to-minute living.
Because by Carolyn Fisher