Finding the sweet grass amongst broken sticks.
That’s where I go.
Using my nose to flick, pass and prod.
Messages beneath consume me.
I’m on the tail. Following behind. Makin’ my way.
A slip of the hoof and Aunty keenly lifts her head.
‘Danger?’ ‘Lofty?’
I’ve backed myself into a neat little pocket.
Sun fills my coat and shadows announce their time.
I’m on the tail. Following behind. Makin’ my way.
The old black mare is up front.
If I near, she turns and leaves.
My mother is the other side.
She’s the explorer, heading into new terrain.
My uncle is up higher, checking the ridge.
He nickers and the rumble reaches me.
My aunty watches over me.
She knows...
Foot weight
Breath change
Ear position
Gas releases
Digestion moves
Heart rate
Eye focus
Skin pulls
Spinal shifts
Feelings
Mouth bites
My rhythm tells her my story.
I’m on the tail. Following behind. Makin’ my way.
I fit in.
I belong here.
I am Lofty.