Listen

by Debra Coppinger Hill

When the horses talk to me,
They tell me many things,
Whats and hows of yesterday,
Why the nighthawk sings.

I learn the meaning of the dance.
Between animals and men,
They inspire me to take the chance,
To look back to where I've been.

On this plain where we live,
In the circle at the center,
You receive more than you give,
When privileged to enter.

So I close my eyes in trust and walk,
And listen to the horses talk.

Copyright 1998 by Debra Coppinger Hill
All rights reserved.

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Reminder from the editor:
It ain't the cowboy way to steal stuff.
This material is copyrighted, so don't even think about
using it without the author's written permission.

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