On The Rising Sun.

• Kim Usher, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2007

On the rising sun they gather and fly
In the quiet of the night I hear them go by
The horses of my memory galloping through
Alert for any sound through the dew

In the wind their manes are flying
Alone in the darkness their foals are crying
In the depths of the night
Their movements are feather-light

The wind rushes by their ears
Yet they know of no fears
With their gleam to the sun they neigh in the dark
They know there is no true arc

Where there are colts and fillies
There are no billies
In the darkness they prance
But in the moonlight they dance