Aiglon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The grey gelding lifts his front leg to an unnatural high, to strike it down

Eye staring, neck strained upwards to avoid the dreaded brush

“Drama Queen”, I whisper to his of unwilling ear

A scratch on the neck is acceptable, the muscles slowly relax 

The scratch and the brush – which is which? I liked it; I’m not sure I like it now… 

Stopped now. Horse nose on human shoulder, lip quivers with whiskers

Time after time, the energy rises and falls; gives way to a dance together

Dust, hair, mud fly up into the air as mingling motes. 

The brush works its magic, becomes an object of massage 

Mane and tail hairs fall into line from their tangled unruliness 

Danger looms from hooves always on the ready to rise up and boot away the enemy 

I’m not your enemy; the determination of quietness prevails and is sensed

The sensing of feeling for the huge creature creates awe and respect

Moment by moment things change, adapt. The white of the eye watches watchfully

A deep breath takes itself; it is done.

I’m proud of myself, he says silently. The fluffy white one turns to look back at me happily. 

Blue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rescued from a lonely tether, abandoned by the  gypsies, the small piebald tousled pony learned to fend off harsh human hands with angry ears and violent serpent head-shaking 

This is now; still on his guard, but  time has stroked his restless defensiveness. 

He pushes as we start to go through the gate back to the yard; I stop him and make him wait. 

He pulls brutishly towards the nearest bucket of hay, sure of his success. 

Weight against weight, but I, ready and rooted stop him. 

Annoyance, snaking head, persistence.  

Calm focus,  holding strongly, persistence 

Who is more determined- the famished fidget or the controlling human? 

Can he stand still for two seconds without pulling? We struggle each with their own agenda, for hundreds of seconds…

No…  not this time, but maybe next 

 

Natalya Ribeaux