The horse was grateful the man turned on the hose, with the forest’s stream flowing lower. The man was kind with gifts of carrots and brushing, saying, “You shouldn’t run so much on these hot days. Where ya runnin’ to, anyway?” The horse coughed out some water. In asking, the man would never know. Especially with his mere two legs never showing hurry. He’d never know the wind on your skin, the sound in your ears. Muscles working their glorious purpose. Outrunning the shadows of the clouds. Even though they are slow, the clouds know as they laugh at the fence. Freedom.
copyright © 2021 Dave Williams