It felt so good to yell about the injustice-
I didn’t think for a moment about you sitting beside me feeling like it was directed at you until you rose rapidly from your comfortable pose.
I had relinquished control of the angry mare and she was crashing around the paddock.
One hoof jammed into the water trough.
The fresh, sullied by the muck festering behind the shoe.
An avalanche of anatomy thrashing to the sawdust and powdered earth.
Too late, she struck her cheek on the gate.
Wild eyes calmed by blood and bone,
Marrow loosed into muscle.
That trusted soul has come to clear the spent flesh and dung.
Leg lame, she struggles to stand.
Walking? Where? And why.
The furrier is gone.