A horse called West

There was an infinite horse called West
He cantered Stallion chest
Heaving, thrusting forward
Beads of salted sweat
To the throttled floor
And hardened salt bed flats
With gifts of pound and precision
The grand machinery of nature
Without untimely death
To reign the beast in

Mortality can appear a noose
Even when the hangman has just cause
And the look of a saint
Beneath his dark hood

West had no knowledge
Of discourage

opposable thumbs were not in his
Chocolate brown make up
His eye dipped
Creamy and soft
If you stared into them
He might appear
To gaze back
Like a lover

Ready and willing
For care and soft
Gentle caress
He might appear to be
But would not stop
A break neck pace
Towards....

For kind things and touch

But for Omega
He had no vision
No need or desire
To hinder him

He was
As well
Without desperation
He was.....

Just as well

Another horse
Would halt him two foaled
And creation would bring the East
And a certainty

He had yet to see a sun rise
Nor see a sun set