Hosting the Herd

On the tender skin of my left shoulder I feel them,

the tenacious line of horses,

                  held tight to the ridge,      of politeness and worry,

                                    …just listen…                              I remind myself, pulling back on the reins.

But I smile, knowing I am equally

That lead horse,

                                    full chested and longing,

the surprising strength of his will

tramples shivers down my spine,

begging to call out, high headed

in a full throated

                                                                                                            neigh.

But the whinny is tugged back,               Wait!

…don’t rise above the bit…

                                   

in a cautious moment, I horse snort curiosity,

pleading for an opening, a breakaway chance, a pulse to lead the pack,

                  …don’t be too much…

Forced into tentative,                                regulated,                                  movements,

                                    a single extended leg investigating open prairie:

A) First from the shoulder, the confident connective tissue, eagerly pressing but wary of resistance.

                  “…maybe we could…”

B) The patella, the back knee, smoothly testing, leans back, yet pushes the issue forward.

                  “…and then, maybe you could…”

C) The forward knee, relying heavily on the cannon, suggesting a point of mutual assurance.

“…and then I could…”

D) The pasterns, articulating, calling for consensus in the hoof, the grounded coffin.

“So then, that will be it. We’re set.”

The lead horse and the rider look back and beam with exhilaration,

seeing the strides they’ve made slowly, working towards full gallop. 

…okay then…    They take a synchronized congratulatory breath         …next issue?

But again, the line breaks, one forward, one back, one sidetracked.

Blowing, and snorting and squealing as herds do.   A circus of the enthusiastic and animated, too little sleep and too much inborn anxiety, so jokes are told and stories shared, arguments posed, disclosure dared

…and of course met with the occasional pin dropped awkward silence, 

large eyes reading the alerted bristles, judging gestures,

each of us an animal, pregnant with fretful anticipation,  

cast aside with a smile, another insight,

the volume raised, as our steps proceed, communal cascade in a new direction.

I feel the wary tightness return,

witnessing a stampede given purpose,

force a breath into my chest,                  and remind myself to

…marvel in this moment…