Wild

#Wild

 He drove her wild    

 horses, a force of nature   

 across the coarse sagebrush for you, miss.  

 

 Between you and the You  

 A ululation, he cried. An   

 exultation in kind of human hubris.   

   

 At hot, humid hovels, this   

 blond, blue-eyed stranger, a   

 towhead Savior, upon his "dun hoss"  

   

 In meagerly mangers   

 did pause there and pray for   

 rain or range, skirted or crossed.  

    

 From Grand Fork to Yuma, with   

 stubborn, grim humor, he   

 rode the Great Umber with something to prove.  

   

 And did he e'er find her? Perhaps  

 it was kinder he not, for  

 men in the saddle are not easily bruised.   

   

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