When the Wind Blew Through Her Hair

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…as if the world
Could never choose
What she should be… Continue reading →

These Curving Hills

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…Ears cocked toward
The teasing sounds of
Approaching mysteries…
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Galloping By

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We are horses Made for sunshine, Galloping golden Hoofs flying Across still, green pasture, Carrying the wind In the bright swirl Of our sun-bleached manes. We come to you Bodies stretched, Heads reaching Forward together, All muscle and bone And … Continue reading →