Thunder peals, wind on the hill.
Meadow grass shimmers and then is still
Explodes in streams of dancing light.
Verdant strips swirl out of sight.
grazing hard on sparse high ground
Heads rise up at every sound
Looking out to keep from harm
They break before the summer storm.
Below the hill a youngster frets
Colt of colts he’s black as jet.
Nerves atwitch wild eyes stare.
Panic rises nostrils flare.
Muscles bunch below sleek hide
Tail held high and prancing stride
Then standing up at full rear
Danger comes, smell of fear.
Its time to run and run he will
Sound of thunder sky will fill.
Move in time with pumping heart.
Then the downward rush will start.
He is one, still apart
But joins now as the others start
A rolling running wild melee
Herd of souls running free
Down and down they will run
Below the hill beneath the sun
To river bank and lush flood plain
Shelter at last
and calm again
Dave Kavanagh June 2015