548 Mustang [16 July 2003]

Flanks heaving under glistening skin
Like the bellows of a blacksmith.
Diamond ears flat against the head,
To cut out the disturbing noise.
Paper-thin nostrils flared,
To give life-bearing oxygen
To screaming lungs.
Red-hot blood coursing
Through the strained muscles.
Terror close behind,
Eyes white with fear.
Machine driven, the pistons,
Those of the pursued and the pursuer,
Working to reach that higher speed.
Determination burning a hole through the heart.
Ebony mane and tail streaming out behind,
Waving like a flag of freedom.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017

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