I feel the wind in my mane,
And it stings my nostrils as i run.
It’s a race,
One i could never win.
It’s a race against time,
The wind and the west.
As i run,
I can feel the land under my pounding hoofs.
The rocks, grass, twigs and everything else you can think of.
I am very lucky to live at one with the wild west.
The west is my home,
My heart,
And my life.
I would never change it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem