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Aly Arnold Feb 2012
I attempted to ride my horse. Toned. Fit.
All power.

Didn’t Budge. Didn’t move.
Not even a crack from a crop.

His dark eyes looked into mine, challenging

Looking to the sky,
I called out into the damp crisp air.

Stillness again, this creature was truly defiant
Sweat glistened on my brow
And I felt my chances were better with a cow.

Humidity leaked through my clothes
Sweat soaked the creature’s coat


Kicking, yelling, and screaming nothing seemed to prevail,
At the point of giving up, I had failed.

Sinking deeper into the seat of my saddle
Exhausted and frustrated I slid off.

Looking at my horse, he felt victorious,
He had won this one.

Tugging the reins I looked back at my unmoving horse.
There was a rebellious look in his eye.

He tossed his glorious head, stomped his hoof in protest.
I looked. Within a second he was off done with this test.

To the other side of the ring, he galloped and flew.
He stopped. Put his head down and began to chew.

He looked back feeling victorious.
He had won this one.

All I could do was crack a smile. Suppress a giggle.
For this was my horse, as stubborn as a mule.

— The End —