Thoroughbred

A foal is birthed spindly, uncertain on its legs. The river begins uncertain, hesitant. Before long both are trying out their legs, wild, without direction.

I lived near the course of a mighty river. Where I lived, the river was brash. Spring floods took flight upon the plains while I looked on in safety from the bluffs of my hometown. A roiling, galloping mess, the river appeared unbreakable. I thought no one would be able to bust this wild animal. Yet my river was contained in the chute of the bluffs, daring the first rider.

Later I would travel to see the adult river, broad-chested and powerful. A deceit lay hidden beneath the sheen of its placid coat. If you looked, you could see nervous muscles twitch, and a mighty courser stood ready to run.

Further on, the river left its horseshoe marks on the landscape. No one had ever successfully tamed her. The wildness of its course left communities cut-off from its life’s energy. Horseshoe lakes and stagnant meanders were the marks left behind as she ran.

When finally she reached the wide open spaces, you could tell she never suffered a saddle. No bit was ever placed in her mouth.

Inconsequential
leak becomes a great courser
Mississippi, y’all!

∞

Also posted on:

Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 349

(“For today’s prompt, write a ‘running its course’ poem.”)

Open Link Night # 172