It is no mirage; this wind is visible. I see it stretch in brown, floating rhythm, phantom-like, on the horizon, mixed with earth and sky. Slowly it takes the shape of music in motion - body, mane, tail, the thin legs slicing time into rhythmic beats of thunder. Closer now, the full form breezes down with love-daring eyes and nuzzling nose of velvet. I shall become a part of this visible wind, this flowing poetry. I shall stretch with him in brown, floating rhythm, phantom-like on the horizon of the world.

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.
QR Code to Pegasus
Read this article in
QR Code to Subscription page
Start your subscription today