F W Finney
Cotswold Trails - Poem by F W Finney
She's riding English
(walk, trot, canter, gallop) .
I watch her hair whip her shoulders;
the look on her face- dentist's mouth,
sweat racing tears,
the dust rising near her knees
as she pulls on the reins-
fingernails carving, thighs trembling.
I was born to die her saddle.
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