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Black Colt MAG
the
dancing foal
as black as night
prancing and trotting
in the red sunset wind
whispering through its wild
mane, its silent hooves barely
touching the ground. its charcoal
eyes stare deep into my soul, as if
seeing something no one else can. his
mother is grazing close, watching his every
move as he dances closer to me, nudging, looking
for a carrot. I bring it out, feeling his soft lips against the
palm of my hand. then I wake up, realize it was only a
dream. but as I gaze out my window, I see two horse
shapes, one small and black, running off into
the sunrise.
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