Dedicated to my mum. It's almost two years ago since she passed. Inspired by a story she once told me.
Wild horses
tearing down the tarmac,
silvery manes of flowing water
twisting in the wind’s hands.
leaving translucent trails of light,
black eyes glistening, nostrils
flared, silent in their insistency.
bodies, buried during the war,
but all she can see are the horses,
hooves pounding the ground.
without a care in the world,
unreflected in windows.
How they run.
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