Finally got the horse broke in. It took years.
Now, not strong enough to ride it. It was wild,
and ornery, yes. Which came, in part, from its not
knowing it was a horse, meant to be ridden.
Wouldn't look you in the eye. Shied from looking
itself in the eye. Wouldn't look in the mirror,
especially not in back, Didn't know it had a back
Funny, how it followed. Didn't have to be caught.
It offered its back, asked for the saddle. Or, so
I thought. A joke! Throw you? That
horse wouldn't let you touch lip or nose with your
feeding hand, let alone get a leg over. Yet it hung
around, acting as if. Acting as if. Would come up
behind you, nuzzle your neck. You'd turn, grab
for its mane. It slid away. But never kept
away for long. Unpredictable. Drove you crazy.
Made you ornery. Broke you. Wish I was strong now,
and that horse not so strong. It wouldn't take long.
To have it. Gentled. Ready to mount. Eager to have
me. Eating out of its hand.
- May Swenson