Across the meadow hoofbeats drum through dense fog pound in our ears and tip our skulls the grass is green blades covered with dew pressed flat against black earth like short slippery snakes, through the mist a shadow grows of horse and rider black-caped, huddled low as they thunder near we see flashing animal eyes, long throbbing neck, dark mane a-flight and the human gripping tight his face luminous, glowering with searching eyes he pries the vale, sees us and with a start he cries "This way! Follow me!" As the steed charges past we turn to watch as they explode, bursting across the meadow in a cloud of silver dust. 1975
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