A lone, brooding shadow in blighted May,
He lifts his noble head against the day.
About which unkempt hair tumbles in curls.
(The large unblinking eyes glisten as pearls.)
In pastures bold and free, untouched by hands—
Here the dark horse, immovable, stands.
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 1:25 AM UTC
A lone, brooding shadow in blighted May,
He lifts his noble head against the day.
About which unkempt hair tumbles in curls.
(The large unblinking eyes glisten as pearls.)
In pastures bold and free, untouched by hands—
Here the dark horse, immovable, stands.
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