• Their Hoofbeats hit the dirt,
    With Soft clouds of air puffing from their nostrils,
    Grace exceeding their Beauty,
    their strides long yet powerful,
    With long tangled manes and wiry dense tails flowing,
    they have their minds set on the day to come,
    to survive the harsh plains,
    so beautiful,
    yet so cruel.
    The young stay close,
    minds buzzing
    with fluffy tails and high pitched whinnies,
    their short strides quicken to keep up with the rush
    of yet another move,
    never knowing what the day may bring.
    but in the soft beating of their hooves,
    their Wild spirit will always be pure.
    because They are Wild horses.