Eoh

Fifteen hands

Stacked side by side

Steadily climb

Toward the sky

They stop

At the apex

Of his withers

For shoulders stay

Roughly the same height

Backcountry ruler

Room for interpretation

Head is a foil

Shifting with the wind

Towards green grass

And unknown sounds

Velvet ears twitch

Shaping his thoughts

How he feels

Whole conversations

Occur in silence

The only time I don’t feel

Like I need to talk

All things are said

Between muscle and breath

At seven years old

I learned how to

Pick up his foot

Sleek ankles slid

Into rough feathers

Hooves are not smooth

Keratin terrain possesses

Its own topographic range

The same way

Mountains slab in layers

The beautiful thing about horses

No rough touch

Is ever needed

This is where

I first learned

How to be gentle

Confident pressure

In the right spot

Elicits kinaesthetic flow

Through time immemorial

Courteous shifting of weight

Allowing my child self

To check his hooves

Simple metal hook

Tucked into my left pocket

Scraped the same pattern

For generations

A sacred ritual

In focused meditation

Equine greetings

Have elegant manners

you must bow or curtsy

Lowering your nose

Alongside theirs

Exhale as they inhale

Inhale as they exhale

You will know sunshine

Sweet hay

Cold waters

They will know

The inner workings

Of your heart

Now you may begin