Brumby Breakers

• Morgan Wilcox, Grade 7, Dubbo Christian School
• Poetry
• 2000

3rd in the 'Watch Out! 2000' competition

The brumby herd is rounded down the northern hill,
Charging down the sap lined slopes like an oil spill.
Though they are terrified running for their lives,
The brumby breakers feel no fear for they’re tougher than the tides,
Then the herd is rounded into a wooden cage,
The stallion roars his defeat his eyes bright with rage.

A silver mare whinnies aloud, and herds her young foal deeper in the crowd,
Such a widened colour range white, black, brown and chestnut.
The breakers break ’em, ride ‘em, sell ‘em, just to make a buck.
Groups of horse’s put in small corrals are then boarded upon trucks,
These are going to the rodeo to throw men with wild bucks,
Others getting panicky, losing their old pals.
One poor jet-black foal gets trampled to the ground,
This was his first encounter with men and didn’t survive for another round,
Then one of the fences gives way, and the horses charge through,
This fight is over and the conflict starts anew.