A star sourced wind blew through the stable,
busting open doors, scattering all the mares
to the corners of the night storm, leaving me forever.
In the morning, a strange chestnut mare ambled into the pasture,
Inquisitive, dipping her head, snorting, ears up, eyes bright.
Gorgeous, high strung, misused, good hearted, wild minded.
She shook her head, from a distance, I caught a glimpse,
the moment the sun flared her mane auburn,
like it does a hummingbird’s throat red .