She is a wild spirit.
Holding tightly to the reins,
She bucks and jerks,
Pulling away violently;
She will not be broken.
The hands hold fast,
Bracing the body against the fight
Leather is strained,
Stretching, weakening–
The power of man
Failing in the presence
Of the wild and untamed spirit.
The hands begin to sweat
Their grip failing;
She rears and throws,
Breath coming in loud snorts and vicious puffs
Their eyes meet.
The shaky hands release their grip,
Letting the strained reins slip away
Falling to the ground,
Feathery dust rising,
She rears and kicks.
The wild spirit remains
Undaunted, unrivaled,
The hands fall to their sides;
They know they have been beaten.
--Rebecca B., Adult