There it is again in the fields
the sound of horses galloping towards
the woods escaping sun's heat and flies.
If my purpose were as simple, running
home back through time to a gentle mother,
a spotted dog who deftly herded his cows
to the shelter of the barn, the bed
I counted stars from as if they were
silver dimes. How rich I was when I reached
a million. Now, leaving my body behind
I sprint with the mares and stallions
who inherently live in the moment
searching for nothing more than shadow.
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