Today I touched a horse.
I haven’t touched a horse in seven years,
then at a country fair, before, on a farm.
I no longer live in the neighborhood of horses.
The horse fly,
who lives closely with his namesake,
enjoys the intimacy of annoying horses.
Over millennium the fly has taught the horse
the art of the tail flick and the ear twitch.
I have learned from flies and horses.
From the fly
I have perfected the almost lethal near miss.
From the horse I acquired tactile memories;
recollections of equine experience,
stroking a velvet nose,
thighs gripping a leather flank,
twisting fingers through a luxuriant mane,
hearing teeth grinding grass,
feeling the thrash of a whipping tail,
seeing eyes reflect what she knows I know.