Swiftly and carefully his steps are planned,
Over rocks and grass, and dry or wet sand.
The call upon the wind reaches his ears,
Then he proceeds to me despite his fears.
Mane flying in the wind, his ears placed forward,
Advancing to me as if I were Lord.
Slowing to canter and then to a trot,
When he saw me all his fears he forgot.
He slows to a walk and then to a halt,
A picture of brilliance, yet still a colt.

Lloyd McLean (1991)
 

This poem is part of the Horses and Things collection