Poem Hunter
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Poem By Chris Purser

Dappled golden mare
With flaxen mane,
Stroking your flank
I feel your strength and power.
We share breath,
The sweet smell of hay,
I offer you mints, negotiate a ride.

A path through the dunes reveals
Wide sands,
Distant breakers.
Nostrils flare at sea salt breeze,
Reined in,
I feel your desire.

Relenting, I say “go”
And hold on tight.
Arrow straight
Towards the distant sea you fly.
Galloping the margin
Where sand and sea collide,
Salt spray flies,
Overhead, gulls shriek encouragement.

I lean forward,
In time with your stride,
Feel the sun and the wind,
Hear you breathing hard,
Sense your joy
Running wild and free.

Golden Horse of the West
I will never forget you.

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