Randi-+The+Horse+in+Her

The horse in her led us into the wood, crossing paddock and fence, over creek and fallen oak, where the stark sun leaked between branches more and more barren with every gust of wind. The weeping leaves, prescient and thick as they filled the hollows, fell faster and faster as they stuffed every place we looked down to for balance. Steady at 80, she led us, shifting her legs over a thick trunk blocking the path, intent on finding the mushroom grove a mile deeper in. Their white heads, as she predicted, peered from a lunar bed freckling the sweep of pine needles, orange, between roots of rotted trees. The soft space invited her to fold and roll her body down, knowing //if one horse rolls the others follow.
 * //THE HORSE IN HER!//**

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